


Fire At Will

by Moongem



Category: Death Spells (Band), Fall Out Boy, LeATHERMØUTH, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Cult, Death spells - Freeform, Frerard, House of Wolves, Leathermouth - Freeform, M/M, MCR, Magic, Priest Gerard Way, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Supernatural Elements, Thank you for the Venom, Welcome to the Black Parade, Witchcraft, Witches, Wizards, hang em high, murder was the case that they gave me, my chemical romance - Freeform, our lady of sorrows, three cheers for sweet revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 40
Words: 114,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6945988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moongem/pseuds/Moongem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Awkward, lonely, and misunderstood, teenage Gerard was not expecting to meet someone like Frank at the church youth group his mother forced him to attend. Gerard seems to have made a new friend, but this friendship will come at a very steep price.<br/>~<br/>If you enjoy cults, gay witches, rituals to pagan gods, and/or teen angst by the bucketloads, then boy do I have a story for you.<br/>~<br/>This songfic is based on a collection of MCR, LeATHERMOUTH, and Death Spells songs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thank You for the Venom I: The Serpent's Son

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: If you are religious (especially Christian), you may be offended by the contents of this songfic. Read at your own risk.

Gerard walked slowly down the street to his church. It was a warm summer night, and the breeze blew his unruly black hair into his face. His parents had nearly killed him when they found out he had changed it from its natural brown, but it was much less drastic than the bright teal he had originally wanted to get.  
Apart from his hair, his parent’s had decided to control his spare time as well, and turned Fridays into his least favourite day of the week. Starting from then, every Friday night at 5 PM, Gerard would make his way down to the basement of the Our Lady of Sorrows chapel for their new “Youth Group for Troubled Teens.” The entire town was very religious - the island, Dolorosa, was in an archipelago of extremely old fashioned and conservative communities called Salem Novus. The archipelago had long ago decided to take after the history of its namesake, and immediately take down any individual or group that dared speak or act in a manner that didn’t align with their religious views. So naturally, Gerard stuck out like a sore thumb.  
Being into rock music and having a slightly androgynous look had gotten him years of bullying at school as well as suspicious glares from adults for almost all of his life. The fact that he was taking a year off after recently graduating from high school didn’t help either. Most kids either went straight to their school of choice on the mainland, the theology school a couple islands over, or got right into their jobs, deciding that where they wanted to work didn’t require post-secondary education. The only school Gerard wanted to go to was an art school in New York. He had applied behind his parent’s backs, and even earned a partial scholarship, but his father decided no son of his would go to school for something as idiotic as art. He would have a real job.  
Gerard didn’t feel suited for anything else, and there weren’t many people willing to hire him, and so now Gerard was spending this summer wondering what the hell he was going to do with the rest of his life, or even the next few months. The inability to go to the school of his dreams had been the subject of many fights with his parents, and when his mother suggested prayer as a guide for decision making, he brashly revealed that prayer wouldn’t help because he’d have to believe in a god to get help from one first. This, of course, only opened another can of worms, and landed him a slap across the face, and every Friday night at 5 o'clock at Our Lady of Sorrows.  
When he reached the church, he made his way around to the back parking lot. A small, sheltered staircase led to the basement. He made his way down and found that the door was open. Inside, there was a small, overly air-conditioned room with a small circle of chairs, all but one filled by disgruntled and scary looking teenagers and one middle aged, balding pastor.  
Crap, he thought, nervously checking his watch. 5:13 - he was late. He hastily walked over to the empty chair and looked around at the six other kids who sat around him. He knew almost all of them. Two of them were guys who had beaten him up at least once, two other ones had been busted for drug possession, one of them was a high school junior who had recently given birth to a child - father unknown, and the last was some short kid he had never seen before.  
The short one smirked as he sat down in the empty chair beside him, eyeing him oddly. Gerard didn’t like the way he looked at him. It wasn’t with the same disgust adults did - this kid looked just as much like a hoodlum as Gerard - and it wasn’t with the hungry eyes of some bully looking for fresh meat. Either one of those would have been familiar enough to ignore, but this was unnerving.  
“Gerald,” the group leader said, “You’re late.”  
“It’s Gerard,” he mumbled quietly.  
“Oh, my bad. Gerard. You’re not too late though. I’ve just been explaining our group mission. We haven’t even gotten to names yet.”  
“Group...mission?”  
“Our goals,” the pastor said enthusiastically, “You know, the things we aim to achieve through our weekly meetings.”  
“Oh boy.”  
“Since you just got here, I’ll do a short recap of what I’ve already told everyone else.”  
Gerard tried not to wince as everyone except the perky pastor sighed audibly.  
“Here at this youth group, we aim to build and connect. I’m gonna really stress that term - build and connect. In this group, we’re going to build a community in which we all feel safe and secure. We’re to connect with each other,” he gestured to the circle and then to the air above him, “and with God.”  
“Sounds fun,” Gerard muttered dryly.  
The short kid laughed. He was leaning on the arm of his chair with his head in one of his hands, tattooed fingers splayed across his cheek. He was still staring at him.  
The pastor, on the other hand, completely misunderstood Gerard's sarcasm, “Oh it will be! I’m Pastor Simon by the way.”  
“Yes,” Gerard said, trying to hide his lack of interest, “I know you from Sundays.”  
“Ah good, good. Now, going around the circle, we’re going to introduce ourselves and talk about why we’re here. And don’t hold anything back - this is a safe and non-judgmental environment. I’ll start - My name is Simon.”  
“Hi Simon,” the group said in zombie-like unison.  
“I’m here because I want to be the shepherd that leads you lost sheep to the arms of our Lord Jesus.”  
They went around the circle, each person lifelessly giving their name and reason for attending. As it neared to Gerard’s turn to speak, he could feel his heart beginning to beat faster. He hated awkward social situations, and Pastor Simon’s claims that this was a safe environment didn’t make it so.  
“Uh..I-I’m Gerard. I mean...you probably already know that ‘cause...S-Simon said earlier…” He looked around nervously. Two of the girls were snickering at his shyness and one of the guys looked like he wanted to beat him up just for stuttering. The short one was smiling at him, but it didn’t look like mockery. More like...something else.  
“A-Anyway,” Gerard said, staring at the floor, “I’m here ‘cause I’ve been having trouble um…”  
“Speaking?” One of the girls said flatly.  
“Now Stephanie,” Simon said, “That’s not very nice of you.”  
Stephanie rolled her eyes as Gerard continued, “I’ve been having trouble with...well it’s been kind of hard for me to believe lately. Like in…the stuff we learn in church.”  
“Now see, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Simon asked happily. “You don’t have to be afraid here. We won’t judge you for having trouble with faith - I’m sure we all have at one point or another. We can talk about any issues you may have later on, alright?”  
“Uh huh.”  
Finally, they got to the short kid, who had been picking at a scab on his knee through the hole in his jeans when he wasn’t staring at Gerard. He seemed to have dyed his hair black like Gerard did, and it was similar in length, except he had gone as far as shaving the sides of his head, leaving the rest to hang down into his face.  
“My name's Frank.”  
“Hi Frank.”  
For a moment, he looked just as dead as the rest of them, but suddenly a mischievous smile spread across his face, “I’m here ‘cause I like sucking dick for cocaine.”  
“FRANKLIN!” Pastor Simon stood up, red in the face, “That is not appropriate for-”  
“But you said this was a safe environment where people wouldn’t judge me. I dunno Sy,” he said, swinging his little legs underneath his chair, “I'm feelin’ a little judged right now.”  
The rest of the youth group was split between disgust and entertained laughter - Gerard had cracked a smile. Frank looked at Gerard and grinned back, apparently satisfied with making him laugh.  
Simon sighed and sat back down, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. “Please speak with me after the session is over, alright?”  
“Okay,” Frank said with a shrug, “But I gotta warn you, I’m not into older guys.”  
“ALRIGHTY THEN,” Simon exclaimed, desperately trying to change the subject, “For our first night, we’re just going to spend the next half-hour getting to know another person in the room. This will be your mission partner for the rest of the summer, so you should really take this opportunity to learn more about them, as they will be helping along on your journey to Jesus. There’s seven of you, so there’s going to have to be one group of three.”  
He got up from his chair, gesturing to the bathroom on the other side of the room, “I’ll be right back, I just need to, ahm, collect myself.”  
Frank waved his fingers at him as he left the room. Immediately, the kids began organising themselves and Gerard felt anxious again. Even though the days of high school P.E were behind him, he still felt the fear of being chosen last. This time, however, his partner decided to choose him almost immediately.  
“Hello there partner.” Frank said, turning to face him.  
“Oh!” Gerard said, surprised, “You wanna be my partner?”  
“Well no shit, what else would I have meant?”  
“Oh…”Gerard said again, not knowing what to continue with.  
“So,” Frank drawled, “Tell me about yourself.” He spoke with low eyelids and one eyebrow cocked mischievously. It almost seemed like he was flirting. Of course he isn’t Gerard thought. But the idea made him go red in the face.  
“Um...I dunno, there isn’t much to tell. I’m taking a year off to get my shit together, I guess.”  
He told Frank about art school and his parent’s opposition to it.  
“Aw man,” Frank said, “That sucks.”  
“Yeah...I mean, I guess they’re right though. I was kind of kidding myself. Being an artist isn’t a real job.”  
“Bullshit,” Frank said, “If you’re good enough, you can make money from anything.”  
‘Well I don’t know if my art’s good enough. I don’t really show it to a lot of people.”  
“It was good enough to get you a scholarship, wasn’t it?”  
“Partial scholarship.”  
“Whatever. Hey, how about this. You show me some of your art sometime, and I’ll tell you if it’s good, huh?”  
“Wh-” Gerard was confused. Was he asking to hang out? “Uh...sure, I guess.”  
“Cool.”  
“So…” Gerard said awkwardly, “What about you?”  
“Not much to tell,” Frank shrugged, “I’m a lost cause apparently.”  
“Parents tell you that?”  
“Nah. I mean, they probably would if they were still alive.”  
“Oh! Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”  
“Hey, it’s cool. I was really young and I don’t even remember much about them.”  
“So...who do you live with then?”  
“As of last year? Me, myself and I.” Frank pointed his thumbs towards his chest, probably sounding cooler in his head, “It’s actually pretty rad. I get to make my own rules instead of listening to the uptight couple that had to let me live with them.”  
“But...If you live by yourself, then who made you come here tonight? It doesn’t really seem like a place you’d want to be.”  
Frank sighed, “It was the fuckin’ Sheriff. He told me he’d let me go with a warning if I came here.”  
Gerard’s eyes widened, “The Sheriff? What’d you do?”  
Frank smirked, “Hard drugs and Black Magic.”  
Gerard laughed, but when Frank didn’t laugh along, he got concerned. “You’re joking, right?”  
“Of course,” Frank said, “I don’t do drugs much anymore, mostly selling.”  
“That’s not what I-”  
“So you listen to any bands?”  
“What? Uh, yeah. I like rock.”  
“Cool,” Frank said, unzipping his black hoodie to reveal a band shirt. Gerard noticed for the first time that his fingerless gloves had skeleton bones on them. The shirt was for Plains of Mars, his favourite metal band. It was a black tee with Greek style lettering in blood red with a white helmet crossed by two spears in the background. He had almost all of their CDs and cassettes, but he could only play them when no one else was home, or with headphones in his cassette player.  
“Oh my gosh! I love that band! I mean - they’re my favourite!”  
“Sweet!” Frank said, grinning proudly, “You know I got to see them live once?”  
“Oh my GOD!” Gerard exclaimed, then looked apologetically at an angry Simon, who had returned recently and did not appreciate the Lord’s name being taken in vain.  
They spent the rest of the time talking about other bands they liked until the time slipped away from them and suddenly the session was over.  
“Okie dokie,” Pastor Simon said, seeming to have regained his bubbly nature, “We’ll meet back here again to start our first lesson.” He spoke happily to the kids as they left, but most of them ignored him. Frank tried to slip past, but Simon stopped him. Gerard stood awkwardly by as they had their one sided conversation.  
“Franklin-”  
“It’s just Frank.”  
“Frank. We need to have a discussion about your behaviour.”  
“Do we now?”  
“Yes. It’s completely inappropriate.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“That’s all you have to say?”  
“Well, I mean you’re, right. It is inappropriate, but your class is boring as hell, so excuse me for livening it up a little.”  
Gerard held his breath. Frank seemed to have the guts to say the things he only ever thought in his head but never said out loud.  
Simon sighed, “I’ll get through to you yet, Franklin.”  
Frank smiled, “Keep dreamin’ brother. See ya next Friday.”  
He began to leave and gestured for Gerard to follow him, but Simon stopped Gerard as well, so Frank waited in the doorway, leaning against the frame and staring at some old flyers and motivational posters on the wall.  
“Gerard.”  
“Hi Simon.”  
“So when your parents signed you up for this class, your father had some...concerns.”  
“Uh...yeah?”  
“Well apart from your faith issue, he’s noted that you’ve been dying your hair, and you won’t cut it, even though it’s getting pretty long.”  
“...So?”  
“He also recently found out that you’re a fan of a um...bisexual male pop singer who wears makeup and feminine clothing.”  
“...Where are you going with this?”  
“Gerard...have you ever had a girlfriend, or taken any interest in girls recently?”  
“Please stop,” Gerard said under his breath.  
“What was that?”  
“Oh, I said um,” he looked nervously at Frank, trying to find a way out of this situation, “I mean yeah, but I don’t think any of them liked me back, so.”  
“It’s just that...your father has been worried that you may be having...unnatural thoughts about...other boys.”  
“Woah, look at that!” Gerard pointed at his watch, “I really gotta go now, bye!”  
He walked past Simon and through the door, trying to hide his bright red face from Frank, who no doubt heard the whole conversation because he was grinning wider than he had the entire night.  
They climbed the steps to the parking lot, leaning up against the wall. Across from the lot was a small forest. It looked harmless enough during the day, but as the sun was setting, it took on an ominous tone. Gerard loved it.  
“You waiting for a ride?” Frank asked.  
“Yeah,” Gerard said, “My mom doesn’t want me out on the streets after dark. He blushed again, realizing how lame he sounded only seconds after he was finished speaking. “She’s crazy though. We live in the most boring town in the world - nothing’s gonna happen here.”  
“You never know,” Frank said, lighting a cigarette, “Who knows what could be lurking in the dark, even on Dolorosa.”  
Gerard laughed,”You into horror?”  
“Yeah, why?”  
“You sound like you should write for Fangoria.”  
“You read Fangoria?” Frank’s hazel eyes lit up, and Gerard noticed for the first time that they were almost the same colour as his. He also noticed something else about them, not knowing how he hadn’t seen it sooner.  
“Yeah I do. It’s great it’s...um...sorry, are you wearing eyeliner?”  
“Yeah,” Frank said, seeming a little defensive, “Got a problem with that?”  
“What? No! I think it’s cool. It’s just that my parents would never let me do anything like that. I tried to use my sister’s once. It worked really well until I accidentally poked myself in the eye.” Gerard blushed at his own awkwardness again, but Frank’s laughter seemed to be affectionate, not mocking.  
“Okay, well maybe when you show me your art, I’ll show you how to put on eyeliner without blinding yourself.”  
Gerard remembered Frank’s initial offhand suggestion that they hang out, “So you’re really serious about talking again later?”  
“Yeah, why not?”  
“Nothing, it’s just...people around here usually don’t find me interesting enough to do more than pick on, ya know?”  
“Yeah, well people around here are fuckin’ idiots,” he put the cigarette to his mouth for a while and then exhaled, slowly letting the smoke escape from his lips. “I think you’re pretty cool. Even though you’re wearing a jean jacket”  
“What’s wrong with my jean jacket?”  
Frank laughed, “Nothing, calm down. Being a dork is nothing to be ashamed of.”  
“You think I’m a dork?” Gerard asked, suddenly feeling like he had made a miscalculation when deciding that he had found someone he could trust.  
“Aw, come on, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s endearing, ya know, cute.”  
Gerard looked away, glad that it was getting dark so that it was harder to see how red his face was. I wondered if he had ever blushed so much in such a short amount of time.  
“But really,” Frank said, “I’m not teasing you, honest.”  
“Okay,” Gerard said, allowing himself to smile a little as he checked his watch, “My mom’s gonna get here soon, so uh-”  
“Oh!” Frank exclaimed, fishing a small piece of lined paper and a pen from his hoodie pocket. He messily scrawled his phone number onto it. “You’ll see me next Friday, but just in case.”  
“Thanks,” Gerard said, taking the paper. It was difficult to read Frank’s handwriting, but he guessed he’d be able to manage well enough. He turned the paper around and saw that an extremely detailed snake swallowing it’s own tail had been drawn in ink.  
He looked up, surprised, “Hey, this is really good, did you draw this?”  
Frank was staring out at the parking lot and pointed to a silver sedan that had just pulled up, “Is that your mom?”  
“Huh? Oh yeah it is.”  
“See you next week then.”  
“Okay.”  
They waved goodbye and Gerard studied the paper as he neared his mother’s car. Lining the inside and outside of the snake, there was writing. The inside was in English, and it read, ‘The Serpent’s Son.’ The outside was in strange symbols he thought he had seen somewhere before - maybe in a history book. He shrugged, guessing Frank was into art as well. We must really be getting along if he gave me something he drew on, he thought. He folded the paper and put it in his back pocket as he got into his mom’s car.  
“Hey mom,” he said, leaning in so she could kiss his cheek.  
“So, how was it?”  
“It was really great,” Gerard lied. Better to tell her what she wanted to hear.  
“Really?  
“Yeah, I think Simon’s really...connecting with us.”  
“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear. So did you sit by yourself for the whole time like you always do, or did you make a new friend?”  
“Actually mom, I think I did.”


	2. Thank You For the Venom II: Hopeless Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard spends some time with his new friend.

Thank You For the Venom II: Hopeless Hearts

The next morning, Gerard woke up happily. Usually, he wasn’t much of a morning person and required a few cups of coffee before he could function properly, but the previous night’s new friendship had put him in a good mood. He walked down the stairs cheerily, nearly tripping on his oversized plaid pajama pants. His family was already sitting around the dinner table, fully dressed and eating quietly as Salem Novus’ local Christian radio station played softly in the background.  
“G’morning,” Gerard said as he yawned, slumping down into his seat.  
“Good morning dear,” his mother said politely.  
His father didn’t say anything from behind his newspaper.   
“Good morning,” his younger sister said. She was five years younger than him and was essentially the perfect child. She had long, beautiful blonde hair that she kept neatly in two braids. She was a straight A student and a good Christian girl, never once stepping out of line. She dressed modestly and yet still managed to capture all the attention in aroom. It would be an overstatement to say that Gerard was jealous of her. It didn’t help that her name, Michelle, had been feminized from someone their family had lost when Gerard was four.  
“How was youth ministry last night,” Michelle asked earnestly. One of the most annoying things about her was that she wasn’t even trying to annoy him. She was genuinely interested in his well-being and it drove him nuts.  
“It was great Michelle,” Gerard sighed, taking some pieces of toast and slices of cantaloupe.  
“Oh, mother,” Michelle piped up, sickeningly bubbly, “Speaking of youth, I was wondering if I could volunteer to help with the Sunday school for the little kids once in awhile?”  
Gerard rolled his eyes.  
“That sounds like an excellent idea Michelle,” their father grunted from behind his paper, “If only your brother here took a similar interest in his church involvement.”  
“Dear,” Gerard’s mother warned.  
“What?” His father demanded, slamming the newspaper down on the table, “I don’t see why it’s so hard for him to be more like his sister!”  
“Oh here we go,” Gerard muttered.  
“You’ve got no friends, you nearly failed all your high-school courses,” his father counted the list of flaws on his fingers, “you don’t play sports, and now you’re turning into an atheist-”  
“Dad, I never said I was-”  
“You talk back to me, you don’t have a job, you’re fat-”  
“DAD!”  
“What? Maybe you should eat some meat and exercise so you can build up some muscle!”  
Gerard defensively put his arms around his belly, “I’m a vegetarian!”  
“And another thing!” His father threw his hands in the air, “You’re becoming a hippie too! Look at the state of your hair!”  
“I think his hair is nice, father,” Michelle cut in quietly.  
“You need to start acting like a man,” his father continued, “instead of some wuss leftist.”  
Gerard stared down at his plate, saying nothing. He had learned over time that if he was going to get yelled at either way, it was better to conserve his energy.  
“Anyway,” his father said, stressing the word as if he was being the bigger man and finally changing the subject, “Have you put any thought into the high school you want to go to, Michelle?”  
“Well I was thinking of St. John’s; most of their students graduate to go on to Salem’s University of Theology.”  
“Very nice choice,” her mother said kindly, “and what about you Gerard. Any plans?”  
His father felt the need to cut in again and muttered under his breath, “You better not bring up that damned art school.”  
“No Dad,” Gerard said, breaking his silence, “You already crushed that dream, remember?”  
His father’s face began to redden, “You little-”  
“My friend thought it was a good idea for me to try. And yes Dad, I have a friend.”  
“Really?” His father said skeptically, “and who is this friend of yours?”  
Michelle and her mother were silent as the two challenged each other.  
“His name’s Frank,” Gerard said proudly, “I met him last night and he’s really…” Gerard looked for the right word, but couldn’t find an appropriate one, “nice.”  
“Frank?” His mother asked, “Oh that’s lovely! You should invite him over for dinner some time!”  
“Pfft,” his father scoffed, “I bet he’s making it up.”  
“No, I’m not!” Gerard said, hating the whine in his voice, “And...and I already invited him over for dinner and he said yes!”  
“Really?” His mother asked excitedly.  
“Uh...yeah...I mean-”  
“That’s great!” Michelle exclaimed, “We can meet your new friend tonight!”  
“Uh-”  
“I’ll have to whip up something really nice,” his mother said happily, already planning dinner before breakfast had even ended.   
Well shit, Gerard thought.

Knock knock knock.  
Gerard looked up from the comic book he was reading. He had told himself that he’d call Frank right away to ask if he wanted to come over for dinner, but all his new-friend confidence seemed to have been sucked out of him with his father’s confrontation.   
He decided that lying on his bed and reading a comic until he worked up the nerve seemed to be a good solution. The knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He opened it, expecting it to be his mother nagging at him to clean his room. It was his sister instead.  
“Michelle?”  
She was holding a beautiful white Bible with golden swirling patterns on it. She thrust it out to him.  
“I bought you this,” she said quickly, “I know we already have tons of Bibles, but this one is special. It’s a lot prettier than most others.”  
“Wow,” Gerard said, slowly taking the large book, “This is...how much did this cost?”  
“Don’t worry about it. I used some allowance I had saved up.”  
“Oh.” Somehow that didn’t make him feel any better.  
“Mother told me about the fight you had. You know...when you said you didn’t believe-”  
“Michelle-”  
“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine. It’s just...I know you haven’t been reading your Bible a lot lately and I just thought...well maybe you’d be more motivated to read it if it was from me.”  
“Gosh Michelle, you really didn’t have to.”  
“It’s fine,” she said, flashing a brilliant smile, “You don’t have to thank me.” And with that, she walked happily away to her room.  
Gerard sighed and put the Bible down on his dresser beside the scrap of paper Frank had given him. Then he remembered once again that he hadn’t called Frank yet. He sighed again and picked up the landline, hoping his mother wasn’t listening in, as was her occasional habit. He dialed Frank’s number, turning over the paper and running his finger over the beautifully drawn snake as the phone rang on the other line.   
“Hello?” Frank answered. Gerard smiled; he sounded groggy, as if he had just woken up. Then panic struck him as he realized he must have woken him up while he was sleeping in. Only his family was crazy enough to wake up early on a summer weekend.  
“Frank?” He asked quickly, “Hey, I’m sorry for waking you up, I didn’t realize how early it was-”  
“Gerard? Dude, it’s like 9:30, why the fuck are you awake?”  
“My parents think it’s a good idea to wake up early every day.”  
“Oh God.”  
“I know...it didn’t occur to me that you’d still be asleep until you answered. I can call back later-”  
“Nah, it’s fine. I need to get off my ass anyway. What’s up?”  
“Uh...well..yesterday you said you wanted to hang out and...um…”  
“...Do you wanna hang out today?”   
Gerard winced; he could hear the amusement in Frank’s voice.  
“Yes?”  
“Cool. Let’s meet at Magdalene park, okay? See you there in ten.”  
The line clicked and then went dead.  
“Huh.” Gerard said, surprised, “Making friends is way easier than I remember.”

Frank was at the park seven minutes before Gerard, so he took it as an opportunity to have a smoke. It was way hotter than Frank was comfortable with, but he still wore his black hoodie. He liked the way it scared away old people.  
When Gerard finally arrived, sketchbook in hand, Frank offered him a cigarette, but he refused.  
“Sorry, my sister made me quit last year.”  
“Sister?”  
“Yeah, she’s...hold on, why do you have a guitar?”  
Frank grinned. He had been standing casually with a brown acoustic guitar hanging around his shoulders. It was normal sized but looked huge on his tiny frame. He plopped down onto the bench behind him.  
“I play. You sounded like you were interested in music, so I decided to bring it”  
“Really?” Gerard’s eyes lit up, “I’ve always wanted to but...I dunno, I’m not really good at it I guess.”  
“I could teach you,” Frank shrugged and began absently strumming his guitar, “So, this sister of yours. She hot?”  
“Aw, gross man, she’s thirteen.”  
“Oh. OH, nevermind then.”  
They both laughed and Gerard loosened up a bit, feeling that he could get a bit more comfortable.  
“Only thirteen and made you quit smoking?” Frank asked after a while, “Pretty on your case for a girl in middle school.”  
“Yeah,” Gerard said bitterly, “She’s a great sister.”  
Frank looked at him sideways, “You don’t really sound like you’re happy about that.”  
“She’s…” Gerard began slowly, hesitant to unload years of envy on someone he just met, “She’s just too perfect, ya know? My parents like her way more. She’s like their replacement for-” He stopped himself and looked away. That was something he never talked about.  
“Their replacement for...what?”  
Gerard shook his head, “Not what. Who. But anyway, it doesn’t matter. You don’t wanna hear all this junk, right?”  
“No, it’s cool you can tell me. I mean..I don’t wanna pry but I don’t mind.”  
“Are you sure?” Most people shut him down and backed off as soon as he began talking about this topic.  
“Yeah man,” Frank said.  
Gerard inhaled, “I used to have a brother when I was younger. His name is...was Mikey. I lost him to leukemia when I was really young so I don’t remember all that much. All I have is a picture of me and him as kids. I just remember loving him a lot.”  
He looked up sheepishly, expecting to see boredom or a weirded out expression on Frank’s face. Instead, he looked sympathetic, “Oh geez...man, I’m sorry.”  
“Oh, I mean, it’s ok, it was a long time ago. I’ve learned to move on.”  
“Doesn’t sound like your parents have.”  
“Yeah.”  
They sat in silence for a while until Frank playfully punched his arm, “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty cool, huh?”  
Gerard smiled and even allowed himself to laugh a little. “Thanks,” he said.  
“So,” Frank said brightly, “Let’s see that sketchbook of yours.”  
Gerard gingerly flipped open his dollar store sketchbook. Most pages were random doodles of superheroes - some from comics, some for stories he wanted to publish himself. Other pages were fully shaded, intricate drawings, most of these depicted lonely and distorted figures in a black and white world. He had only ever shown these to his art teacher, who immediately contacted his parents and told them that their son probably had emotional issues. He got the distinct feeling however, that Frank wouldn’t react so drastically.  
“Holy cow! These are really good!” Frank exclaimed.  
“Really?” Gerard had been shutting his eyes, shaking his head, or quickly trying to give explanations every time they reached a drawing that was disturbing or in his mind, sub-par.  
“Yeah dude! This is so rad, I wish I could draw like you.”  
“But you can! That snake on the paper you gave me-”  
“Oh,” Frank said, “One of my uh, brothers gave it to me.”  
“Brothers? But I thought you said you lived alone.”  
“I do...sorta...It’s...complicated.”  
“Oh,” Gerard said, “Ok. Could I ever meet your brothers, or is that complicated too?”  
“Nah, it’s cool. When I said complicated I meant...well we’re not really related.”  
“Oh, right. Foster siblings.”  
“Sorta,” Frank shrugged.  
Gerard swung his legs, trying to think of something to say, “So..um..oh! Speaking of family, I was wondering if you’d wanna meet mine? You know, for like dinner or something?”  
“Really?” Frank asked, “Most adults around here don’t really like me all that much.”  
“I know but...my mom’s kind of just excited that I actually have a friend now.”  
Gerard felt his face burn up, realizing again how dumb he sounded.  
Frank just laughed, “So we’re friends now?”  
“Well,” Gerard stared at his sneakers, “I...I just thought.”  
“Relax man, it’s cool. I came up and talked to you remember? We can be friends.” He smiled teasingly, “So when do I come over.”  
“Um...tonight. At six.”  
“You’re an eager one, aren’t cha?”  
“I kinda told them I already asked you so…”  
“Alright, alright,” Frank said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, “ I guess I’ll have to make time in my busy schedule of lying around and stealing gum from the convenience store.”  
“Haha very funny. Wait - do you actually steal stuff from the convenience store?”  
Frank rolled his eyes, “My friend, you’ve gotta get out more.”  
After a while, Frank started playing a few parts of some Plains of Mars songs he had learned by ear.  
“Man,” Gerard said, “you’re really good.”  
He began to hum along quietly, and Frank stopped.  
“Why’d you stop?” Gerard asked.  
“You can sing.”   
“What? Not really, I just-”  
“No, no, no, sing along when I play. You know the words, right?”  
“Um...yeah?”  
“Ok.” Frank began playing again, nodding his head to indicate Gerard’s turn to join in. He started quiet at first, shy that he wasn’t singing in a school group, or alone in front of his bedroom mirror. Soon his voice got a bit stronger and more confident as Frank smiled reassuringly.  
“You took my heart,” Gerard sang, “bewitched me there, with your dark eyes, your golden stare. And now I stand, alone in the dark, cause you little witch, you went and stole my heart.”  
It was one of Gerard’s favourite songs - the story of a man seduced by a beautiful woman who promptly left him for someone else. The lyrics were simple, but sung with deep emotion. The song started off as a catchy little tune, the upbeat nature of the song juxtaposing the sad lyrics, but after a while, the words took a dark turn and the singer went from singing in a bittersweet voice to crying out in agony for the love he has lost.  
“Wow,” Frank said when the song was over, “You’re really good. The song sounds so much sadder with my acoustic, too.”  
“Yeah,” Gerard said, “I always thought of that song as mostly angry, but now it’s way sadder. Oh,” he said quickly, “And um..thanks.”  
Frank grinned, “No problem.”  
They spent the rest of the time trying out other songs and finding new ways to interpret them. Gerard wanted to stay for longer but it was nearing noon and he had to go help make lunch.  
“See you at six,” he said after giving Frank his address. “Oh and...I really hate to ask this but...it’s my parents and I just…”  
“Want me to behave?”  
“Yeah.”  
Frank laughed, “I’ll certainly do my best.”  
Gerard smiled, “Thanks. Um...bye...friend.”  
“Adios, amigo.” Frank saluted as Gerard walked away, happily clutching his sketchbook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, hope you enjoyed, and PLEASE leave comments.


	3. Thank You For the Venom III: You Never Had a Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey it's Franklin  
> Comin' over to Gee's house  
> (Sorry, I couldn't help myself)
> 
> But yes, Frank goes over to Gerard's house for dinner. Let the cringe fest begin.

Thank You for the Venom III: You Never Had a Chance

Frank walked up to the porch steps of Gerard’s house, hands stuffed into his pockets and whistling casually. The house was a small two-storey with clean white paneling, baby blue shutters a pristine lawn with trimmed bushes - the exact kind of place Frank did not feel at home.  
He rung the doorbell anyway, putting on his best ‘I’m not as dangerous as I look’ face. Gerard answered almost immediately afterwards and looked him up and down frantically.  
“Hey Gerard,” Frank said.  
‘Oh God, Frank.”  
“...What?”  
Gerard looked nervously down at Frank’s heavily tattooed hands, “Could you...maybe roll your sleeves down...just a bit?”  
Frank sighed and tugged the sleeves of his baggy sweater down. The night was becoming humid, and he hoped Gerard’s house had air conditioning.  
“Where are your gloves?” Gerard asked.  
“Where are your manners?” Franks countered sassily, putting his hands on his hips, “You didn’t even greet me when I came in.”  
“Frank, you gotta cover up your tattoos as much as possible. And are you wearing eyeliner? My dad’s gonna-”  
“Maybe you should have thought about that before deciding that I would come to dinner without asking me first.”  
Gerard groaned and looked to his left, into the kitchen, “Alright, just...act...decent.”  
Frank smirked as he walked in, “Pfft, decent is my middle name.”  
Gerard glared at him.  
“Actually, it’s Anthony,” Frank said, smiling even wider when Gerard sighed in exasperation.  
“Franklin!” Gerard’s mother came bounding from the kitchen and gave Frank a huge hug.  
“Whoa there,” Frank said quietly.  
“Mom,” Gerard warned, “Personal space.”  
“Oh! Sorry! I’m just so happy that Gerard is finally getting out of his room and actually talking to people!” She clasped her hands together with glee.  
“Mom!” Gerard hissed.  
She smiled, “Ok, well come on in Frankli-”  
“It’s just Frank,” Gerard and Frank said in unison.  
Gerard’s mother smiled and walked happily back into the kitchen, leaving the two by the staircase.  
“So she didn’t notice the eyeliner,” Gerard said under his breath as they followed her, “maybe my dad won’t either.”  
The moment Frank stepped into the kitchen-dining area, Gerard’s father’s eyes went wide. He had been sitting at the table with Michelle, who had just finished taking out the plates and putting the food in the centre. She stared at him too.  
Frank had to stop himself from laughing out loud - he could almost smell the fear on them.  
“Good evening,” he said politely, “I’m Frank, but I’m sure Gerard has already told you.”  
“...Yes,” his father said, “He’s mentioned you...briefly.”  
The two boys sat down beside each other in the awkward silence, while Gerard’s mother gave her husband a warning look.  
“So,” she said brightly as she shared their food, “How old are you, Frank?”  
“Seventeen.”  
“What college are you going to?” Michelle asked, eager to have the chance to talk about her academic achievements.  
“Uh…” Frank said slowly, “Um...I’m kinda just...chilling for a while before I make up my mind.”  
“‘Chilling’?” Gerard’s dad asked, “And what exactly do you do in your spare time while you’re ‘chilling?’”  
He leaned in and narrowed his eyes, daring Frank to say something out of line.  
Please say something non-threatening, Gerard hoped desperately.  
“Well…” Frank started after swallowing his mashed potatoes, “I go to the youth ministry thing on Fridays now.”  
Good start.  
“...and?”  
“I enjoy…” Frank’s eyes darted back and forth between Gerard and his dad, “playing guitar.”  
“Oh, we got another artist,” Gerard’s father teased. “Gerard likes music, but he can’t play any instruments.”  
“I play the piano,” Michelle boasted.  
“What else do you like to do, Frank?”  
“Come now,” Gerard’s mom cut in helpfully, “Stop interrogating the boy.”  
The tension in the room died down for a while, and Gerard’s parents began chatting about the paint job their neighbours just did on their living room. Gerard and Frank began talking about guitar, leaving Michelle to pick at her carrots in silence. For a while, Gerard thought things were going pretty good. Then Michelle asked Frank to pass the juice jug.  
“Wow,” Michelle said after getting a closer look at his hands, “You sure do have a lot of tattoos.” Both of Gerard’s parents turned to look.  
“Um...yeah,” Frank said nervously.  
Gerard held his breath. Curved around Frank’s hands were random symbols and words. The most noticeable was a black snake that curved around the flesh of his right thumb, coming back in on its own tail - it was darker than the rest, and looked almost raised off his skin, like henna before it peels off. To a normal person, they’d just look like cool decorations - to Gerard’s parents, they were practically demonic.  
“How old did you say you were?” Gerard’s dad asked, “Seventeen? Your parents let you get those tattoos?”  
“Uh, yeah” Frank lied, “They’re pretty cool.”  
Gerard glared at him, but he shrugged back as a response. It would be too complicated to explain the truth.  
“Well, I’d love to meet these ‘cool’ parents of yours sometime.”  
Gerard’s glare intensified.  
“Uh, yeah…” Frank said slowly, “That would be...cool.”  
They continued to sit in excruciating silence until Michelle brought up a dress she wanted to buy, and their parents’ attention was finally on something else. Gerard and Frank said nothing until the meal was over.  
“Well,” Frank said when the meal was done, addressing Gerard’s mom, “That was delicious. Thank you guys for inviting me.” He tried for a smile, which Gerard’s mother returned. Gerard’s dad simply scowled.  
“Okie dokie then,” Frank looked at Gerard, who was sweating as much as he was, “I guess I’ll see you on Friday, Gerard.”  
“It was nice having you Frank,” Gerard’s mom waved kindly.  
“Come back soon,” Michelle smiled.  
Gerard waved at him, more a command to get out as soon as possible than a friendly farewell. Frank was about to leave the room when Gerard’s dad stopped him.  
“Son?” He asked, addressing Frank.  
“Uh...yeah?” Frank turned around.  
“One more thing before you leave.”  
“What’s that, sir?”  
“Are you wearing makeup?”  
The room was silent, and all eyes were on Frank. He stared back at them before looking intently at a watch that wasn’t on his wrist and spewing out his next words as fast as he could.  
“Oh gosh, look at the time, I really got to go, see you later, bye!”  
They remained silent for a long time, even after the front door had been closed in his wake.  
“What a strange boy,” Gerard’s mother finally said.  
Michelle shrugged, “I like him.”  
After quickly helping with dishes, avoiding his father’s disappointed gaze the entire time, Gerard quickly retreated to his room, wondering if he could will the ground beneath to open up and take him under.

That night, when Gerard had finally recovered from the overwhelming embarrassment of dinner, he worked up the nerve to call Frank and apologize. He got off his bed, where he had reassumed reading the third volume of his favourite manga, Maya the Psychic. He noticed as he went to pick up the phone receiver that the house was really quiet - too quiet. Usually, his dad would be watching a football game and his mother would be chatting on the phone, leaving it unavailable for his use. The line was free, and the TV and the radio were off, which meant his parents were discussing something. Gerard had figured out that their way of trying to be casual was to be extremely suspicious.  
He put down the phone and walked over to his bedroom door and cracked it open, peering with one eye through the opening. All he could see from his room was the staircase and front door, but he could see their shadows to the right - they were in the living room, speaking in hushed tones.  
Gerard quickly closed the door and ran over to the vent between his bookshelf and bed, the one closest to the living room. He knelt down and lay flat on the hardwood, pressing his ear to the vent. He slowed his breathing and finally caught a few bits of their conversation, but it was hard to tell from the tinny echo.  
“I’m really….ed bec….Gerard never…..by himself.”  
“....cept now….he’s brought...strange…..I don’t trust….”  
“I think…..really…..see a doctor.”  
“For the…..or Frank?”  
Gerard inhaled sharply. What about Frank? Who was going to the doctor?  
“Frank? Wha…..why wou….”  
“Can’t you…..he’s obviously…..”  
Silence.  
“on’t want…...this discussion.”  
“Bu….”  
“Just stop it!”  
Gerard straightened up. His mother had yelled from downstairs. When he heard nothing else, he quickly put his ear back down to the vent.  
“No more of….I’ll take….Sunday.”  
“Fine.”  
They didn’t say anything else.  
Gerard sat up, trying to figure out what their conversation had been about. Clearly they were upset that Frank was his new friend, but he couldn’t figure out what that had to do with going to the doctor’s. He guessed he would find out on Sunday.  
Gerard went back to the phone on his dresser, listened for a while to make sure no one else was eavesdropping, and quickly dialed Frank’s number.  
“Hello,” came a clear male voice. It wasn’t Frank.  
“Uh...hello? Is...Frank there?”  
“Oh!” The guy on the other side laughed. He sounded nice enough, “Sorry, hold on. Frank! Your friend called!”  
A few seconds of silence passed before Frank took the phone.  
“Hey,” he said quickly, “sorry about that.”  
“Was that one of your brothers?”  
“Um, yeah. Listen, I’m sorry about dinner.”  
“What? You’re apologizing?”  
Frank paused, “Yes...why?”  
“I was going to apologize for my parents,” Gerard said, “They’re super judgemental.”  
“Yeah well, you warned me. I should have remembered to at least take off my eyeliner. That was really awkward.”  
“Tell me about it.”  
“Do you…” Frank began, “Do you still want to hang out?”  
“Yes! Of course!”  
Gerard could hear the smile in Frank’s voice, “Ok, cool. Hey, meet me in the church parking lot after youth group is done next week, okay?”  
“Um...sure, but why-”  
He had hung up. Gerard shook his head. Frank really needed to be taught some phone etiquette.  
Only seconds after Gerard had hung up, his father opened the door without knocking. Next time, Gerard thought, making a mental note, lock the door.  
“Gerard?” His father asked.  
“Hey dad,” Gerard stuffed the paper with Frank’s number into his back pocket, “What’s up?”  
“Gerard, this is serious. I need to talk to you about...your new friend.”  
Gerard sighed. ‘Talking to him’ was his father’s code term for talking at him.  
“What about him,” Gerard asked, trying to sound uninterested. He sat on his bed, readying himself for his father’s words.  
“I don’t want you near him anymore.”  
“What? Why?”  
“Because I say so, that’s why!” His father roared, “I see you with him again and trust me, you’ll regret it a lot more than I will.”  
“But-”  
“No buts! I’m doing this for your own good.”  
His father turned and left, leaving the door swinging open.  
Gerard scowled and got up from the bed, muttering angrily as he shut the door.  
“If you’re gonna invade my personal privacy, at least have the courtesy to close the goddamn door when you’re done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to leave comments! (Also don't expect the updates to always be this fast, I've had a shockingly low amount of homework and a high amount of drive to write, both of which could come to an end at any moment.)


	4. Thank You For the Venom IV: Just the Way that the Doctor Made Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gerard has an appointment with his family doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains disturbing content relating to the treatment of those in the LGBTQ+ community.

Thank You For the Venom IV: Just the Way that the Doctor Made Me

Usually on Sundays, Gerard would sit politely but absently through church, managing to zone out during the sermon and sing quietly during the songs. The hymns had all been engraved in his brain after years of repetition, so it was mostly just muscle memory.  
The Our Lady of Sorrows chapel was small but beautiful, comprised of two columns of pews leading up to the modest but elegant altar, behind which were swathes of red curtains, contrasted by the white walls. When he was young, Gerard loved the place. As he got older, it became more and more like a prison that he had to return to once a week, and now, with the advent of the new youth ministry, twice.  
Instead of his usual distracted complacency, Gerard was filled with curiosity and a twinge of anxiety that Sunday. The events of the day before had left him confused and worried. What exactly had his parents been talking about? And so soon after finding a potential friend, his father had taken away the ability to spend time with him - at least without getting in trouble.  
When the service ended, Gerard was itching to get home and change out of his tight-collared dress shirt, which made him sweat like crazy. He put on some jeans and a t-shirt and began doodling in his sketchbook on his bed, listening intently for his parents to make some noise that would reveal what was going to happen today with the doctor. He had a creeping feeling that he’d be the one with the apppointment. His parents had only taken an interest in his mental health after finding out about his crumbling beliefs - before that, they had barely shown interest, though his emotional state had been in shambles far earlier.  
After a while, he heard a soft knocking at his door - it was either his mother or Michelle - his father would never be so gentle.  
“Yeah?” He called.  
The door opened slowly, and his mother peeked her head in. “Gerard? Sweetie, we’re gonna go to see a doctor today, alright?”  
“A doctor?” He tried to act surprised, “Why? I’m not sick.”  
“Well no, but I’ve been concerned about you lately. You’re always in your room and...and you don’t have any friends-”  
“What about Frank?”  
His mother stiffened, then blinked and continued on as if she hadn’t heard Frank’s name, “I think you may have some emotional...problems.”  
“You think I’m depressed?” Gerard asked. He was tired of skirting around the subject. He didn’t know if he was, but it sure as hell felt like it sometimes.  
“I-” His mother stammered, “I don’t know, but if you are, I want you to get help.”  
Gerard looked down. He knew the only reason she suspected that he had a mental illness was that she thought he was becoming agnostic. It wasn’t because he had no friends - it was because he had no Christian friends.  
His mom sighed, seeing how displeased he was, “Just get come on sweetie, it won’t take that long.”  
Gerard sighed and put down his sketchbook and pencil. Most of the doctors in the area were just as religious as everyone else - he prepared himself to be told about the wonders of prayer for people with depression.

The drive to the doctor’s office was short - around five minutes. It occurred to Gerard that they should be seeing a therapist, not their family doctor for an issue like this.  
“Hey mom,” he asked as they were directed to the doctor’s room, “Why aren’t we seeing a therapist instead of Dr. Solomon?”  
His mother shrugged, “You father told me he was a therapist as well. This is a small town, Gerard, most people have more than one role in the community.” She kissed him on the cheek and said she had a few errands to run - she would be back when the session was over.  
Gerard hopped up onto the doctor’s padded table while he waited. The sanitary paper tore from the force of his jump, and he quickly put his leg over the rip.  
Dr. Solomon walked in with a clipboard and Gerard nervously said hello. Solomon had always scared Gerard a little - He was a tall, pale, bald, clean shaven man with angular features and piercing grey-blue eyes. He was always polite, but he had a cutting voice with a perpetual undertone of derision. Gerard always felt as if Solomon was patronizing him, but he couldn’t tell why it intimidated him so much. Maybe it was the lab coat.  
“Hello Gerard,” he greeted in a monotonous voice, “How have you been?” He clearly didn’t care.  
“Fine.” Another false portrayal of reality.  
“So your mother tells me that you have depression, Gerard.”  
“Um...well, I actually came to get a diagnosis, we don’t really know.”  
“Nonsense,” the doctor said, “Surely a mother would know her own son well enough to tell.”  
“But-” Gerard stopped. When Dr. Solomon turned to his counter, he could see over his shoulder that he was already writing up a prescription for the antidepressants - and a bill his mother would have to pay for the visit. Of course Solomon wants me on meds, Gerard thought, remembering that the pharmacy and the doctor’s office were joint groups.  
“At any rate,” his doctor continued, turning around and putting on a small pair of angular, black glasses, “I’ve known you since you were a boy, and I’ve seen the changes myself.”  
“If you saw the signs,” Gerard asked, “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”  
The doctor narrowed his eyes, annoyed that Gerard had challenged him, “ I’ve been suggesting medication to your parents for a quite some time, but they wouldn’t accept it until now.”  
Sure, Gerard thought bitterly.  
“Your mother can get the pills when she comes back,” he said, flipping through his clipboard and making a small note.  
“So…” Gerard began, “Can I sit in in the waiting room until she comes back?” Now that you’ve decided I have depression? He wanted to add. He was amazed that for such a pious town, the people could be so greedy.  
“No,” Solomon said curtly, “You will stay so that I can address our second concern.”  
“What second concern?” Gerard’s heart began to beat faster. The logical part of him said that his parents wanted him to exercise more - but his gut told him it was something else.  
“You know what I’m talking about,” Dr. Solomon stated matter of factly, taking a swift stride in his direction.  
Gerard shook his head, “I don’t”  
“Silence!” The doctor grabbed his face, gripping Gerard’s childish face with his bony hands. He leaned in close so Gerard could smell the mint on his breath, “You know. And so help me, I will get this…” He looked Gerard up and down in disgust, “...this disease out of you.”  
“What disease?” Gerard squeaked.  
Solomon scoffed and let go of Gerard, backing off, “Tell me about Franklin, Gerard. This new ‘friend’ your father told me about.”  
“Well first of all,” Gerard said, rubbing his sore face, “It’s just Frank.”  
“Oh!” Dr. Solomon exclaimed, “Quite fond of this Frank, aren’t we?”  
“Well yeah,” Gerard said defensively, “He’s the only person I know who understands me.”  
“Oh really? And just...how well does he understand you?”  
Gerard froze, “What...what do you mean?”  
“I mean how close are you two Gerard? Do you engage in...physical contact?”  
Gerard’s eyes flew wide open with understanding, and suddenly he felt like a complete idiot.  
“I’m...we’re not-”  
“Oh let’s just cut to the chase,” his doctor growled impatiently, “Do you like boys Gerard?”  
“Like boys...in a sense that...I mean, I have friends who are boys.”  
His doctor glared at him angrily, “One; don’t sass me. Two; we both know you don’t have friends other than this delinquent Frank. Three; everyone who knows of him that I’ve contacted has told me two things - Frank also doesn’t have friends - and he’s a raging homosexual.”  
“You think...you think we’re together?” Gerard yelled indignantly.  
“I don’t know,” The doctor leaned in, “But I do think you’d be just fine having the company of a male - that you’d prefer it to that of a female.”  
“I’m not gay,” Gerard said, “I’m-” he paused, wondering if this doctor even knew that it was possible to not lie in one of the two categories of straight or gay. The term pansexual would probably make his brain implode - either that or he wouldn’t care.  
“Then you don’t have romantic thoughts about boys then?”  
Gerard paused again, trying to find a way to explain himself. Solomon took it as a confession.  
“So you admit to it then.”  
“No! You don’t understand,” Gerard was getting desperate. A strange feeling was welling up inside him. He didn’t know what Solomon was going to do, but he felt he wouldn’t like it.  
“I think I understand well enough,” the doctor said, quickly scribbling something into his notes.  
“Why is this any of your business anyway?” Gerard said angrily, “Since when are you a therapist?”  
“I’m not,” Solomon spat, “but I am still a doctor. And my job is to make people better. That’s what I’m going to do Gerard,” he leaned in close again, “I’m going to fix you.”  
Gerard felt his stomach flip, “What does that mean?” His words came out as a scared whisper.  
The doctor smiled, showing his pristine white teeth. It was not a smile of joy, “You’ll find out soon enough.” He shoved the prescription and bill into Gerard’s hands, “Give these to your mother. And oh, if she asks, we never addressed the...second concern.”  
Gerard was confused, “Why?”  
“Let’s just say your father was a lot more informative on that issue than your mother was.”  
“She doesn’t know about-”  
“No. She thinks she’s paying me for heart to hearts and hand holding. And you’re going to keep it that way if you’re as scared of your father as I think you are. Your mother will bring you back here at the same time on Wednesday. You can leave now,” he ended, waving his hand dismissively.  
Gerard sat silently. He was too stunned to move, “What are you going to do?” The feeling in his stomach intensified and he felt as if he would vomit.  
“Why are you still in my office?” The doctor demanded. He grabbed Gerard by the arm and hauled him off the table, “You better get used to following my orders. This will make things a lot easier for you.” He shoved a trembling Gerard out of the room and slammed the door.

When Gerard’s mother came to pick him up, Gerard seemed odd. He was always quiet, but he answered her questions even more curtly than usual. She wondered if Dr. Solomon had said something to rattle him, or maybe he was just upset about his new weekly visits on top of youth group on Fridays. Oh well, his mother thought, he’s always hated going to the doctor’s.

Wednesday afternoon came faster than Gerard had anticipated. He hadn’t called Frank for fear that one of his parents would hear him. The pills he had taken only made him feel worse; he was nauseated half the time and it took him twice as long to fall asleep the past three nights. He couldn’t tell if it was the pills or his fear of what would happen on Wednesday. Worse; he didn’t know if the pills were really antidepressants or treatment for the ‘second concern.’  
His father had barely made eye contact with him in the time since banning contact with Frank, but that was probably best; Gerard refused to bring up any medical concerns around his father for fear of his anger.  
When twelve fifty came, Gerard was pacing up and down in his room, willing his hands to stop shaking. Stop worrying, he told himself, everything’s going to be fine. It’s not like he can - he stopped himself from wondering would Solomon could possibly do that was so horrible. When his mother called him, he went downstairs with a smile on his face, expecting the worst while having no idea what that could be.  
The five minute drive seemed to go by in five seconds, and before he knew it, he was in the waiting room.  
“Hello you two,” Dr. Solomon walked in to greet them, smiling with sickening sweetness, “And how are we today, Gerard?” His words were kind, but his eyes held no emotion.  
“I’m fine,” Gerard mumbled.  
The doctor turned to Gerard’s mother, “I’ll take him from here. You can pick him up when we’re done.”  
Gerard winced. It was so easy for Solomon to persuade his mother to leave. He wanted to grab her hand and tell her to stay and protect him from whatever he feared was about to happen, but she had already kissed his forehead and left the clinic. He was left alone with Solomon.  
“Come with me,” the doctor said quickly. He turned around and strode to a different room than last time. The first thing Gerard noticed was its size - it was much bigger. Then he noticed the large monitor at one end and the larger contraption in the middle of the room. It was covered with a white sheet, but the outline of it made him nervous.  
“Wh-what is that?” He asked, finally working up the nerve to speak.  
“Oh,” Solomon said, “You’ll find out next week. For now, you’ll be sitting in that chair over there.” He pointed to a small chair that was closer to the monitor. There was a large plastic container on the floor in front of it. “You had a big breakfast, right Gerard?”  
“Why?”  
Solomon smiled, but his eyes were dead, “Sit down, Gerard.”  
Gerard gingerly stepped over to the chair. As he neared it, he noticed two metal cuffs on the arm rests.  
“What...what are those?”  
“Sit,” the doctor spat harshly, shoving Gerard down into the seat by his shoulder. He leaned over to clasp the cuffs together, then locked them with a key that he put into his coat pocket. Gerard then noticed how old the chair was - it had to have been from at least a couple decades ago. He tried to search through his memory to find the information he needed to understand why so many alarms were going off in his head.  
Dr. Solomon pulled a small remote from his pocket and pressed a button. An extremely graphic image appeared on the monitor. At first, all Gerard saw was skin. Then he realized that it was two humans - two men. Then he realized what they were doing. His face turned red.  
“What...why are you showing me this?”  
“Is this what you think about, Gerard?” Solomon asked, barely attempting to hide his disgust.  
Gerard’s hands started shaking again, but now they were bound and he couldn’t hold them together to stop it. The cuffs rattled along with his hands.. “Why are you doing this?” He tried to look away, but he couldn’t - the picture made him feel...something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He had never had access to pornography and this sudden image in his face was so against everything he had been taught. It was forbidden and wrong - under other circumstances, he would have been excited. In this situation, he just felt trapped.  
Solomon walked over to a cabinet on the far side of the room and sifted through it, speaking over his shoulder, “Most people in Salem Novus prefer prayer to the ‘sin’ of modern science. More than half this island’s population would rather pray as their loved ones die than trust them to what they think is the devil’s work. And these people don’t smoke or drink - you know how hard it is to make money trying to treat people who are either healthy or refuse to pay for your services?”  
“If you disagree with their beliefs, then why are you doing this to me?” He still didn’t know what ‘this’ was, but he was very willing to stall for as much time as he could before finding out.  
“Oh Gerard,” Solomon walked back to him, holding a single pill and a bottle of water in his hands, “you misunderstand me. I’m not an atheist, I just think we should trust at least a certain amount of things to ourselves. God obviously isn’t as concerned with our well-being as we think if he allows people like you to exist. Or perhaps you’re one of our many punishments. Either way, I need money and your parents want you fixed. That’s just the way it is.”  
Gerard’s face heated up again at the mention of being ‘fixed,’ “There’s nothing wrong with me,” he said angrily, “You can’t fix me if I’m not broken.”  
Dr. Solomon’s face cracked into another lifeless smile, “I guess I’ll have to break you then.”  
He placed the pill on a tray next to the chair and used his free hand pull Gerard’s head back by the hair. He turned the water out into his throat, not flinching when a fountain came back up from Gerard’s gags.  
He picked up the pill and forced Gerard’s mouth open, shoving the medication in as far back as his hands could reach. Gerard had to swallow it to be able to breathe again; the muscles in his throat closed up around it and it sank down into his stomach.  
“What was that?” He asked fearfully.  
“Shh,” the Doctor said, pressing another button on the remote, “I’ll be back soon. You should be done by then.” He then walked to the door, turned off the lights, and left the room.  
Gerard strained in his seat, trying to turn around and ask what was going on - what he’d be done doing, but it was no use. He turned back around and began shaking the cuffs angrily, knowing that all of his efforts were in vain.  
Then he finally looked back up at the monitor and noticed that the picture had changed - it changed every few seconds, different positions of homosexual erotica that would make his mother faint if it was even described to her.  
He began to wonder what the big deal was. Yeah, he was chained up, but he was also watching porn, which wasn’t the worst thing in the world to be forced to look at. Then suddenly a strange feeling rose in his stomach - the forbidden pleasure turned into a horrible sickening wave that washed over his entire body. He thought back to when the doctor asked if he had eaten enough for breakfast. It was then that pill took effect and the first wave hit.  
His entire body lurched forward, his esophagus violently shucking out the contents of his stomach. His half-digested breakfast sloshed out into the container in front of him, a brown-green mess mingled with bile and saliva. The force of the action forced tears out of his eyes, but he couldn’t wipe them away.  
Gerard sat back up, trying to take deep breaths through his nose so that his mouth wouldn’t be open. That only let in the smell of the vomit and made it worse. He looked away from the container, and his eyes were drawn to the monitor. The pictures kept changing, becoming more and more scandalous with each change. His throat burned from the bile and he tried to clear it and spit out the remainder into the container. Bad decision. His mouth began to water, and he tried to swallow the excess saliva, but bubbles of vomit rose up in his throat.  
His torso fell forward again, the muscles in his throat and stomach contorting to get all the contents of his stomach out while his lungs screamed from lack of oxygen. He hadn’t noticed that he was sobbing until the second wave was over. He tried to collect himself, but every time he made any major movement, his stomach emptied itself. He couldn’t cry out for help - to do so, he would need to open his mouth, and that would allow a passageway for more bile. It wasn’t as if anyone would hear him, or care, for that matter.  
For the next few minutes, he sat alone in the dark, sniffling and closing his eyes, trying to look away from the screen. Even with his eyes closed, the bright light of the monitor assaulted his eyelids, and he could imagine exactly what was being shown. Whenever he thought of it, the nausea would return, but after a while, there was nothing left in his body, and he was just heaving while nothing came out.  
A few more minutes passed and so did the nausea. His stomach was fine, but he was still trembling. Another few minutes and Dr. Solomon returned, turning the lights on and the monitor off. Gerard squinted against the bright light, wishing he could wipe away his tears so that Solomon couldn’t see them.  
The doctor had brought some wipes and wordlessly wiped the spittle from Gerard’s face, as a nurse came to carry away the vomit. The key came out and Solomon undid the cuffs, helping a still shaking Gerard out of his chair.  
“You mother will be here shortly,” he said, unfeeling to the scared child in front of him, “You will tell her the shaking was from opening up about your emotions, and you will not tell her the details of this session. Do you understand?”  
Gerard still couldn’t speak, so he nodded. He was just glad to be leaving.  
“Oh, and Gerard?” Solomon called out as Gerard headed for the waiting room, “Get excited for next week.” He gestured to the contraption beneath the white sheet, “You’ll get to find out exactly what my machine does - first hand.”


	5. Thank You For the Venom V: Preach All You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the passing of another week, Gerard and Frank meet again at Our Lady of Sorrows on Friday night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed a little error in continuity concerning Gerard's parents' view on his sexuality, so if you go back to part one, you'll see that Simon now says his father is worried about it, not his mother.

Gerard spent nearly all of Thursday in his room. It wasn’t very strange for him to do so, but usually he’d at least venture out for some snacks, and this time he was staying inside because of fear, not social anxiety. His father made him take two pills that morning, as directed by his prescription, and he immediately felt light-headed and nauseous. The idea of throwing up again reminded him of his ‘session’ with Dr. Solomon, so all he consumed that day was half his breakfast and couple of sodas to settle his stomach.  
He thought of calling Frank, but that just reminded him of the session with Solomon too. Gerard was scared that Frank would think he was brushing him off, but he assured himself that he could make up some excuse when the next day came and they saw each other again. As time went on however, the idea of seeing Frank again made him nervous. He was scared of how he’d behave now that their friendship was banned. He was still allowed to speak with him at youth group - his father allowed that - but no hanging out afterwards, which was exactly what Frank wanted to do.  
On Friday morning, Gerard woke up feeling horrible. He had barely slept all night - a heat wave had hit the island, making sleep even harder - and a pounding headache assaulted him when he sat up. He looked across the room at his dresser, where the translucent bottle of little white pills sat. He began to wonder if what the doctor had given him were really antidepressants or something to treat the ‘second concern.’ Either way, he didn’t want to take them again.  
He was about to get out of bed when his father opened the door, deciding once again that knocking wasn’t necessary.  
“Good morning Gerard,” his father said, then cut right to the chase, “did you take your pills yet?”  
“Uh...yeah,” Gerard said yawning.”  
His father squinted, “No you didn’t. Don’t lie to me.”  
“I’m not.”  
“Why would you get out of bed to take the pill and then go back?”  
Gerard paused, realizing his mistake, “I...I was tired and I was gonna go back to sleep-”  
His dad bounded towards him, dragging him out of bed by the collar of his shirt, “DON’T. LIE. TO. ME.” He shoved Gerard towards the dresser. “Take the pills.”  
“I..I don’t-”  
“NOW.”  
“I-” Gerard stammered, feeling his eyes welling up with tears, “I don’t have water.”  
His father groaned and pulled him over to the bathroom and shoved him inside, blocking the doorway and crossing his arms.  
“Catch the water from the tap in your hands.”  
Gerard slowly turned on the water, his hands still shaking with fear. His father seemed impatient with his speed but didn’t touch him again. Gerard’s throat almost closed up when he put the pills in, the very memory of nausea making him gag. But he swallowed it - the fear of his father was much greater than the fear of throwing up.  
“Good,” his father nodded, satisfied. His eyes softened - only a little, “I’m doing this for your own good, Gerard.”  
He looked at his father, and unknown message passing between them. Gerard knew that his father wasn’t talking about depression, and his father knew that he knew. It was an uneasy understanding. Neither of them said anything for a while and then his father left to go downstairs.  
Gerard turned back to look in the mirror. His eyes were red and puffy, but angry and defiant, a stark contrast to the rest of his baby face. He closed his eyes, imagining hitting his father, pushing him down a thousand times to repay the favour. Gerard had often daydreamed of fighting back, of finally standing up for himself, but never so much as he wanted to at that moment. It was his dad’s fault what he had gone through - what he would go through next week and the weeks after that. The stubborn man didn’t even care. He imagined punching him, pulling out a knife and taking his anger out. He imagined his father bleeding on the floor, curled up in the fetal position like Gerard would when he cried himself to sleep. The idea of such violence scared Gerard - and excited him. He suddenly came to the decision that no, he would not stay away from Frank, and if his father beat the crap out of him for wanting to live his own life, then so be it.

That evening, Gerard and his mother pulled up to the back of the church. They had spoken in complete silence on the way there. He could tell by the look on her face that she had heard his father yelling at him that morning. She had also taken note of his sleep deprivation and shrinking diet. It was obvious that she was concerned. But she said nothing.  
“Mom?” Gerard asked before getting out to leave.  
“Yes, dear?” She perked up a little, happy for at least a scrap of communication with her son.  
“Um...would it be ok if you didn’t pick me up tonight? I just...I dunno, I feel like I can handle it on my own. Our neighborhood's pretty safe and the walk isn’t that far. I’ve gotta learn to be more independent for university.” He threw the last part in, hoping it would have a positive effect.  
She saw right through his ruse, “You’re going to go see Frank, aren’t you?”  
Gerard berated himself - he really needed to get better at lying.  
“I...uh-”  
“Gerard,” his mom held up a hand, “It’s fine.”  
“What?”  
“I…” She took a deep breath as if the following was hard for her to say, even without her husband’s presence, “I think it’s good that you have a friend. Even if it’s Frank. I know your father doesn’t like him, and I’m a bit on the fence myself, but I want you to be happy.”  
Gerard stared at her. She was so oblivious to what was going on - she clearly believed her son was heterosexual and had no idea about what was really going on in Solomon’s office.   
“Thanks, mom,” he said, truly thankful, though wondering how she would have acted differently if she agreed with her husband about their son’s sexuality.  
She smiled, “No worries. I’ll tell your father that Simon asked me to let you stay later than the others so you could talk one to one.”  
Gerard hugged her - that was probably the most rebellious she had ever been against his father. She hugged him back, smiling in her blissful ignorance.  
Gerard headed into the basement, politely greeting Simon and immediately going to sit down beside Frank.  
“Hey,” Frank said.  
“Hi.”  
“You ok,?” Frank asked, “Your eyes are really red. You haven’t been smoking it up, have you?”  
Gerard forced himself to laugh, “Nah, I’m just tired.”  
Simon shushed all of them as the last few kids arrived.   
“How’s everybody doing today?” he asked cheerfully. No one responded. He turned to Gerard, the least threatening person in the room, “How are you, Gerard? Are you alright? You look tired.”  
“I’m fine.” He said through gritted teeth.  
“Oookay then. Today we’re going to be reading bible verses with our partners. There’s a sticky note at the front of your bibles that tell you which section you’ll be reading. When you’re finished, you and your partner will share what you’ve learned from the passage with the rest of the group. So pay attention.”  
Simon passed around the bibles - one for each pair. Gerard scooted his chair closer to Frank’s so that they could rest the large book on both their legs. Gerard’s knee brushed against Frank’s and he held his breath - Frank didn’t seem to notice. Soon, they were leaning against each other, neither of them addressing the close contact.   
Frank looked down at the sticky note, “Uh, Leviticus chapter 20.” He looked up at Gerard bashfully, “I’m not really used to these things - could you find it?”  
Gerard chuckled, easily flipping to the third book of the Old Testament. Years of memorization in Sunday school had ensured that he could name at least 80% of the books of the Bible in order. They found the chapter, and decided that they would switch reading after every paragraph.  
“Punishment For Child Sacrifice,” Frank began, “Ooh, this sounds interesting.”  
Gerard rolled his eyes, following along until it was his turn to read. The entire passage was mainly about the different crimes God wanted Moses to tell the Israelites were worthy of death. The second section was labeled ‘Punishments for Sexual Immorality,’ and suddenly Gerard remembered what Leviticus 20 was famous for. He eyed Simon out of the corner of his eye, who had no doubt specifically chosen this particular passage for Gerard to read. They went through the list, dealing with adultery and incest. When they got to one of Gerard’s least favourite lines, it was still his turn to read.  
“If a man lies with a male as with a woman,” Gerard shook his head, annoyed that it was considered a man pretending that another was female - as if heterosexuality was everyone’s default setting, “both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely…” he sighed, “they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them.”  
“Man,” Frank said, “That’s fucked up. How the hell is being gay the same as wanting to bang your mom?”  
Gerard shook his head, “Yeah I know, it’s messed up. But keep your voice down. Simon’s going to hear you.”  
“And Simon thinks you’re gay.”  
Gerard paused, wondering just how obvious his attraction to guys was. He didn’t say anything, so Frank continued.  
“Are you?”  
“I...no, it’s complicated.”  
Frank raised an eyebrow, “Meaning..?”  
“Meaning I like guys but not just guys, okay?” Gerard could hear the defensiveness in his voice, but he didn’t apologize. Dr. Solomon’s insistence had set him on edge.  
“Okay,” Frank held his hands up in surrender, “I don’t care, Gerard, it’s fine.”  
“Yeah, I know it’s fine. Tell the rest of this goddamn town that instead.”  
Frank furrowed his brows, a look of concern replacing his usual smirk. “Dude, are you ok? You seem really on edge.”  
“Yeah, I’m just...tired. Let’s keep reading.”  
They got to the end, finishing off the passage with the punishment for witchcraft which was, of course, death.  
“Any man or woman who is a medium or a necromancer,” Frank read in a bored, monotonous voice, “shall surely be put to death. They shall be stoned; their blood shall be upon them.” He scoffed defiantly, “Bullshit.”  
“What was that?” Simon perked up from across the room.  
Frank froze, “I...I was saying..B-bless...you...Gerard,” he dramatically put a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, “Bless your soul.” He turned to Simon and smiled, giving him a thumbs up. Simon sighed and looked away.  
Gerard giggled, “You know, I used to think I was awkward, and then I met you.”  
“Hey!” Frank protested with a grin, “You’re way more awkward than I am.”  
“You tried to get out of an uncomfortable situation with my dad by pointing to an invisible watch,” Gerard countered.  
“Yeah, well you…”  
“Mmhm?”  
“Shut up, that’s what.”  
They both laughed again. Gerard breathed a sigh of relief; somehow Frank had managed to make what originally seemed like torture into something fun. Well, it was fun - at least until they had to present ‘what they learned’ with the group. The other partnerships lifelessly gave their answers, and Frank followed suit. Gerard had been planning a well thought out summary of what they had read, but Frank decided to speak first.  
“Basically,” he said, counting the items on his tattooed fingers, “Don’t sacrifice your kids, don’t cheat, don’t screw family members, and don’t screw animals.”  
Simon winced at Frank’s crass language.  
“Um..” Gerard said, “Yeah...that’s basically it I guess.”  
“Really?,” Simon asked, “I was hoping for a more...eloquent answer. I’m quite familiar with that passage...are you two sure that you’re not forgetting anything?”  
“Uh huh,” Gerard said.  
“Positive,” Frank agreed, pointing his fingers like guns.  
Simon looked at them in exasperation, then turned towards the group - a whole batch of rotten failures, “Well...that was...informative. Thank you all for sharing.”  
They spent the rest of their time discussing their weeks - a topic Gerard evaded by claiming to have been reading in his room for basically the entire time. No mention of Frank’s visit, and definitely no mention of Dr. Solomon.  
Frank recounted a house he had egged and how he had keyed the car of someone he didn’t like. The rest of the group seemed to find it funny, but Simon just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
When it was time to leave, Gerard and Frank walked up the stairs to the parking lot. Gerard pulled Frank aside to have a word.  
“Listen, Frank.”  
“Mm?”  
“My uh...my dad doesn’t want us to hang out.”  
“Yeah, I kinda guessed.”  
“No, I mean he might actually kill me if he finds out that I see you anywhere other than here. Even hanging out with you afterwards is banned.”  
“Oh…” Frank said, trying to hide his disappointment, but failing, “Shit. I’m sorry. I should have been more prepared-”  
“Frank. It’s fine.”  
“What?”  
“I don’t care what my dad thinks,” Gerard said with conviction, “you’re the only person in this freaking town I don’t feel like a complete alien around. I mean...I-I know we haven’t known each other for long and,” Gerard’s confidence turned to unsurety, “I just…”  
“Dude,” Frank said with a smile, “I get it. I understand.”  
Gerard smiled back. The two stood there, grinning with the happiness felt from acceptance. The other kids leaving the group passed them weird glances, but they ignored them.  
“Hey listen,” Frank said suddenly, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you. I wasn’t sure, but now that I know you trust me-”  
“What is it?” Gerard asked eagerly.  
Frank looked side to side, “You can’t tell anyone, alright?”  
“Frank!”  
His friend sighed, “Ok Gerard. Follow me.” With that, he walked across the parking lot into the forest on the other side. Gerard followed quickly after him.  
“Where are we going?”  
“You’ll see.”  
They walked for a couple of minutes, pushing tree branches and bushes out of the way. It was still light out during Summer evenings, but Gerard still felt that these woods had a sinister quality.  
“What?” Frank teased when he saw the look on his face, “Are you scared?”  
“No! I’m just...I dunno, I’ve never been in this forest before.”  
“Makes sense,” Frank said.  
“Huh?”  
“We made sure no one would ever feel compelled to come here,” Frank explained as if it were obvious, “As a sort of security. There are no fences, but no one other than us has stepped in this forest for years.”  
Gerard got a chill, feeling that ‘us’ didn’t mean the two of them.  
“Wh-what do you mean?”  
“Don’t worry,” Frank waved a hand dismissively, “You’ll understand when you meet them.”  
“Them?” Gerard asked, wondering if maybe he needed to rethink his plan to hang out with Frank behind his dad’s back.  
They came across a small clearing in the woods. The area seemed to have been made by a fire - a fire that burned in a perfect circle and permitted nothing to grow afterwards. Atop the scorched soil was a decrepit, abandoned looking house with boarded windows and the same serpent from Frank’s paper etched onto the door. Gerard thought he could hear yells from inside. His stomach twisted.  
“Them,” Frank affirmed, walking up to the door and beckoning for Gerard to follow, “Gerard, it’s time for you to meet my brothers.”


	6. Thank You For the Venom VI: The Scar that Makes You Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard finally meets Frank's brothers.

Thank You For the Venom VI: The Scar that Makes You Run

Gerard gingerly followed Frank, looking around fearfully. Something about this place made him unsettled. It just felt - wrong. Like it didn’t belong there. He nearly bumped into Frank, who had come to a halt at the door. He stood on his tiptoes, his sneakers stained from the ash and black gravel of the clearing. Gerard got closer and saw what he was looking at - the dark door had a little rectangular slider that opened from the inside.  
Frank knocked a rhythm of six beats against the door three times. The yelling ceased, and the slider slid open just a crack.   
Two lips came close to the opening, “Pass?”  
Frank leaned closer to the slider, which had obviously been designed for taller people, “Venom.”  
The slider closed quickly and the sound of locks and chains clicking came from behind the door. Gerard glanced at Frank, who was bouncing excitedly.  
“Frank…why do your brothers live in a creepy fort?”  
“Let’s just say we have our own group that meets on Fridays.”  
“I don’t understand.”  
The door opened, revealing a large teen - around their age - with blonde bangs hanging asymmetrically down in his face and a piercing on his lower lip. He scowled down at Frank when he saw him. His cold eyes hardened even more when he saw Gerard.  
“Is this the one you were talking about, Frank?”  
“Yeah,” Frank said, still smiling, “I wanna show him the group, see if he wants to join.”  
“Join what?” Gerard added in cautiously - the blonde guy intimidated him, “I thought this was your adoptive brother?”  
They both laughed  
“No,” Frank said, “and thank God.”  
The blonde guy’s smile disappeared, “Haha, very funny.”  
“Aww, come on Bob,” Frank pleaded, “you know I just love messing with you.”  
“Whatever. Listen, I don’t know if I can let this guy in,” he nodded in Gerard’s direction, “How do we know he won’t go blabbing his mouth to the whole island?”  
Frank frowned, “He won’t because I know him.”  
“Didn’t you meet him a couple days ago?”  
“And Ray asked me to bring him.”  
Bob groaned, “Fine. But if every fucker on Dolorosa knows all our secrets by tomorrow morning, it’s on you.” He turned and walked away, leaving the doorway open.  
“Don’t mind him,” Frank said, grabbing Gerard’s hand and pulling him inside, “come on.”  
Gerard gasped when he entered the house. It was much larger than it looked on the outside and appeared to be just one huge room. The walls were painted black, and the only light came from candles or lamps with red bulbs. The yelling was from the metal blaring in the background, and the dozens of unwashed adolescent guys singing loudly along to it. They sat on the many old couches and tables laid out haphazardly through the room, all of which faced a large fireplace at the very end.  
Frank pulled him through the crowds of sweaty teens, most of whom were drunk. Gerard had never felt so anxious in his life; he gripped Frank’s hand tightly as they weaved their way through. When they neared the fireplace, Gerard could see that there was a semicircular section in front of it that had been cleared of chairs and tables. Instead, there was what appeared to be a small black plinth or altar. On either side of the fireplace were sets of large black wardrobes, stretching out to both sides of the room.  
Frank led Gerard around to the couch directly facing the fire. Gerard thought it was odd that they were burning a fire in summer, but he didn’t ask any questions - they had found who Frank was looking for. Sitting there, reading an ancient looking book was a guy about his age, dressed in jeans and a dark t-shirt. His brown hair extended away from his head in a large, frizzy afro, and it was hard to tell in the lighting, but he looked vaguely Hispanic.   
“Hey, Ray!” Frank yelled over the music.  
Ray looked up and smiled, much more welcoming than Bob had been, “Hey! Is this Gerard?”  
Frank nodded. Gerard thought he had heard Ray’s voice somewhere and realized that he was the one he had talked to on the phone.  
“Hey Gerard!” Ray reached out and they shook hands.  
“Hi!” Gerard said, hating that he had to raise his voice, “Um...you guys sure do have a lot of brothers.”  
Ray and Frank looked at each other then burst out laughing.  
“I like this one,” Ray said, “he’s adorable.”  
“Right?”  
Gerard blushed, thankful that the room was so poorly lit.  
“We’re brothers,” Ray said, “But not in the way you think.”  
“I know,” Gerard responded, “Frank told me you weren’t blood brothers,” he looked around at the crowd of around twenty teenagers, “I mean, that’d be a pretty big family.”  
“But we are blood brothers,” Ray said mysteriously as he closed his book, “At least in a way.”  
“I don’t understand.”  
“Don’t worry,” Ray stood up, “You will. And by then you can choose whether you want to join us or not.”  
Gerard furrowed his eyebrows, “Join you?”  
“Yeah,” Ray said. He walked over to one of the wardrobes and beckoned Frank and Gerard to follow. He opened one of them, which turned out to actually be a bookshelf full of more old texts. Ray carefully placed the book he had been reading from back into its place.  
“You see this?” Ray said, gesturing up to the books beside him, “We’ve been collecting these since some of us were only twelve. It’s a library of ancient knowledge that we will use to make the world a better place.”  
Gerard was still confused, “...By...teaching kids how to read?”  
“No,” Ray laughed, “By cleansing it. Starting with these islands - this island to be precise.”  
“Cleansing?” Gerard repeated. Something about the word set him on edge.  
“Yes,” Frank agreed, “Of all the scum who don’t accept people like us.”  
“People like us?” Gerard remembered that he had never asked Frank about his sexuality.  
Ray continued, “With these, we will have the knowledge we need to make a new, better world.”  
Gerard’s eyes widened, “Okay, you guys are nuts.”  
“Maybe,” Frank said passionately, “But not as nuts as those people out there,” he pointed to the door of the house, referencing the residents of Dolorosa, “those sheep who blindly follow a being they’ve never even come into contact with.”  
“I don’t know,” Gerard said, his stomach doing flips again, “You criticize them for being religious, but what you’re saying sounds a lot like Noah’s flood-”  
“This is nothing like that...that fairytale!” Frank yelled, “We won’t just be using water Gerard, this cleansing will be with fire and air and-”  
“What are you talking about?” Gerard yelled back, “You’re scaring me Frank! You’re talking about cleansing and fire! What the hell does that even mean?”  
Frank calmed down a bit, but it was clear that his was still mad, “I thought...I thought you were ready.”  
“Ready for what?” Gerard had never felt such a mix of fear and curiosity in his life. He wanted to leave, but he also wanted to find out more.  
“To join us,” Ray filled in when Frank didn’t respond, “Like we said earlier, you can join our group if you wish. But it’s completely up to you.”  
“Your group?” Gerard asked, “What even is your group?”  
“The Band of the Serpent’s Son,” Ray said, holding up his right hand and revealing a snake identical to Frank’s.  
Gerard’s mouth flew open, “But that’s-”  
“The same mark Frank has,” Ray said, taking hold of Frank’s hand and holding it up as well. Frank was still sulking and snatched his hand back.  
“That was the snake from the paper you gave me!” Gerard said, turning to Frank. He reached into his back pocket where he kept it, running his thumb over the scrap.  
“Yeah,” he responded grumpily, crossing his arms. “I thought it would make you curious.”  
“Well it did,” Gerard admitted, “I just have no idea what’s going on. What you guys said about cleansing and fire? It sounds really dangerous. What are you planning to do, commit mass arson?”  
Ray sighed, “What you imagine is on too small of a scale, Gerard. Here, let me show you. Maybe if you see what just one of us can do, you’ll understand.”  
He nodded at Frank, who walked quickly over to the stereo and unplugged it. The music cut out immediately, and the dancing teens turned to yell at Frank.  
“Turn the music back on, short stack!”   
“Hey, shut up!” He yelled back, “We've got a noob today, and Ray’s showing him the ropes.”  
The guys instantly hushed and went quickly to a place where they could see Ray and Gerard clearly. Frank pushed his way through, and could see that Gerard was looking around nervously at the group of people who were staring at him. He swallowed his anger a bit and tried for a smile, giving Gerard a reassuring thumbs up.  
Ray closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding his hands out in front of him with his palms facing the earth. Gerard thought it was a trick of the bad lighting, but he could have sworn he saw a greenish glow from the bottom of Ray’s right hand.  
At first, nothing happened, and Gerard was embarrassed but slightly relieved. Then he began to hear a low rumbling that gradually grew louder. It was soon accompanied by a rattle, and the entire room began to shake. Soon the shaking became violent, and everyone who wasn’t already sitting or holding on to something was thrown to the ground, Gerard included.  
He cried out in fear. He had never been in an earthquake before, and his heart raced at the idea of facing a natural disaster. Then he looked up at Ray, the only person who hadn’t been affected by the shaking. He saw that the boy was whispering under his breath, and from that angle, he could see clearly - a bright green glow was most definitely coming from the snake on Ray’s hand.  
Soon, the shaking died down, and Ray’s hands relaxed. He looked at Gerard who had scrambled to his feet and looked terrified. The rest of the guys in the room burst into cheers and applause.  
“Gerard,” Ray said softly when the noise died down, “are you okay?”  
“You...you just….there was an earthquake!”  
“Don’t worry, I made it so that only this area could feel it. The rest of Dolorosa is fine.”  
“But you...you did it!”  
“Yeah,” Ray smiled, “And that’s only what I can do. The others are still learning, but imagine our combined power together! And we’ll get more and more recruits once we show everyone what we’re capable of!”  
Gerard shook his head, still unable to comprehend, “What you just did wasn’t natural! It was...that was-”  
“Magic,” Ray finished.  
Gerard looked over at Frank, who nodded his head in agreement. His stomach filled with the same odd feeling he had gotten when he had first seen the image on the monitor at Solomon’s office, the feeling that he had seen something wrong and forbidden. Like before, this had gone against everything he had been taught was Godly and acceptable. Except this time, he wasn’t strapped to a chair. He wanted out as quickly as possible.  
“I...I need to leave.”  
Ray’s smile disappeared, “But I thought…” he sighed, “All right. I understand that this is hard for you to take in.”  
Some of the other guys began to sneer and boo at him, but Ray gave them a hard look, and that made them stop right away.  
“I’m sorry,” Gerard said quickly, looking at the ground, “But I can’t...I don’t feel safe here. This doesn’t feel right. I’m sorry,” he said again.  
“No need to apologize,” Ray said, though it was clear he was disappointed, “Frank will take you back outside. And Gerard, you can’t tell anyone about this, do you understand?”  
Gerard nodded nervously. Ray didn’t have to present a threat for him to know it was there, “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. They’d think I was nuts anyway.”  
“Or burn you at the stake,” one of the guys jeered.  
“Hush,” Ray retorted - there was no response. He turned back to Gerard, “Listen, I know today freaked you out, but remember that you’re always welcome here, alright?”  
“Thanks,” Gerard said quietly, “But I think I’d like to go now.”

The light of the still bright evening blinded Gerard as he left the dark room. Frank hadn’t said anything to him on the way out and continued to be silent when they got outside.  
“So,” Gerard said angrily, “That’s where you live, huh.”  
“Well not officially. All my clothes ‘n stuff are down at a storage place near-”  
“Frank!” Gerard turned to him, “You’re part of a cult!”  
Frank’s expression darkened, “Call it whatever you want. They still have more sense than your Bible thumping parents.”  
Gerard’s face heated up and this time, there was no darkness to hide it, “I am not my parents!”  
“Then why are you acting like them? You see something new and different for once in your coddled life, and you run away!”  
“That was magic!” Gerard could feel his throat tightening from the anger, “You’re basically witches!”  
“And what!” Frank yelled back twice as loud, “‘We shall surely be put to death’? That’s what your holy book says, right?”  
“That’s not what I meant,” Gerard tried to calm himself down, “I just...I thought you were joking when you said all that stuff about black magic. Do you know how much harder this is gonna make things? I mean, you’re really putting another nail in the coffin for our friendship. My dad finding out about us would be one thing, but if word gets out about this on top of that-”  
“But word won’t get out,” Frank spat, “because you’re gonna keep your cowardly mouth shut.”  
“Wha- How am I a coward?”  
“Did you forget how you ran away five fucking seconds ago?”  
“He made an earthquake!”  
“And you’d bend over backwards for your dad like a fucking jester before showing any backbone!”  
Gerard froze. His eyes welled up with tears as he remembered his father forcing him to take medication that morning. “Shut up.”  
“What?” Frank countered, almost laughing, “Are you crying now? You’re just proving my point!”  
“I SAID SHUT UP!” Gerard screamed, “YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE HELL YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!”  
Frank stood there wide eyed and began to regret his harsh words, “Woah, Gerard, calm down-”   
“No!” Gerard cut him off, letting the tears stream down his face, “You don’t know me! You don’t know anything about my life! You think I can just abandon everything and live in the fucking woods and rebel against the world whenever I feel like it but I can’t! I’m not like you! And I’m not joining your band of witches!”   
He took the piece of paper with Frank’s number and snake out of this back pocket and threw it at Frank. Because the paper was thin, it didn’t hit Frank, but fluttered pathetically to the ashen ground. Gerard sniffled and turned to leave.  
Frank held out his hand, “Gerard, wait.”  
Gerard didn’t respond. He kept walking in the direction they came from until he reached the church parking lot. He began his lonely walk home and didn’t look back once.

Back at the Band of the Serpent’s Son, Frank sat lifelessly on a couch by the fireplace. The music and dancing had resumed, and the rowdy teenagers would most probably continue into the early morning until they passed out for the day.  
Ray came over to Frank and sat by him, “You okay?”  
“Yeah.”  
“No you’re not.”  
“Then why the fuck did you ask?”  
“To see if you’re still in the habit of lying about how you feel.”  
Frank rolled his eyes, “Go away, mom.”  
Ray laughed a bit, but there was sympathy in his eyes, “I’m sorry about your friend, Frank.”  
“Yeah, me too.”  
“You think he’s coming back?”  
“I dunno.”  
“Do you want him to? You seemed pretty mad.”  
“I dunno.”  
Ray sighed, “You said you thought he was The One, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I wouldn’t mind if it was him. He seemed pretty cool.”  
“Yeah. He did.”


	7. Thank You For the Venom VII: Who's Gonna Save Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, guess what? It's Wednesday again.

Thank You For the Venom VII: Who's Gonna Save Me?

The weekend went by with a depressing slowness. Gerard hadn’t spoken with Frank since their fight, and he didn’t intend to be the one to give in first - he waited in vain by the house phone for Frank to call him. Then he remembered that Frank didn’t know which days and hours his parents went to work - any call could easily blow their cover. Then of course, there was also the possibility that Frank simply didn’t want to apologize either. Gerard thought of calling Frank back - throwing away the paper with his number on it had been for show more than anything else - he had his number committed to memory.  
But then he remembered which house the call would go to. He imagined some drunken cultist answering the phone, or perhaps not at all because they were too busy partying or performing some godforsaken ritual. He decided that no, he wouldn’t call Frank, not even when his parents were at work or Michelle was out with her friends.   
So he spent the beginning of the week alone as well. It almost felt as if things were going back to normal - back to the way they were before Gerard met Frank. Monday passed along with Tuesday, and as Wednesday crept up on him, Gerard remembered with dread that things were in no way back to normal. The effects of the pills had only gotten worse; he was constantly dizzy and nauseated. He could barely sleep, and his appetite shrunk down to a few bites a day and plenty of coffee to keep himself awake. The first time his mother and Michelle asked about his eating habits, his father gave them stern looks, and they didn’t bother asking again.   
As the circles around Gerard’s eyes darkened, he began to wonder when he would begin noticeably losing pounds. He thought bitterly about his father’s comments on his weight. Apparently barely eating was a good enough substitute for exercise in his dad’s eyes.  
No. Things were definitely not back to normal.  
On Wednesday morning, Gerard woke up from a horrible nightmare. Dr. Solomon had been chasing him with a giant scalpel, attempting to slice his head open and observe the contents. The two ran down a dark corridor with a tiny point of light at the very end. No matter how much Gerard ran, the light never came closer. In fact, it seemed to get farther and farther away. Finally, Gerard collapsed out of exhaustion - the dream was so realistic, he could actually feel his lungs burning as he hit the cold ground. He looked up, and there stood Solomon, except he was different - he was changing. His spine began to elongate, and his skin tightened and stretched as his bone structure changed shape. Solomon’s white coat and neat clothes beneath ripped and fell away, revealing a warped distortion of a body. His eye sockets grew until they became gaping holes, and his eyeballs fell back into them. His mouth stretched open until it was a cavern of darkness rimmed by rows of perfectly white and incredibly sharp teeth. His hands became claws and he dropped the scalpel, no longer needing it. He spread his talons and hissed, hot spittle flying towards Gerard’s face. It burned his skin when it made contact. Then Solomon lunged.   
Then Gerard woke up.  
His first action that morning was running to the bathroom and immediately throwing up. There wasn’t much in his stomach, so it burned even worse than it had on his first session with Solomon. He flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, nearly gagging at the sight of his puke speckled wrist. He immediately went to the sink washed his hands all the way up to his forearms. When they were clean, he began gulping down water from the tap until the viscous, bitter taste had mostly left his mouth. He stood up straight, grimacing at his sorry sight in the mirror. His eyes were even puffier, and the circles around them continued to darken. His teeth began to show signs of staining from the coffees he constantly drank.  
I look like a fucking mess, he thought.  
He went downstairs for a quick cup of coffee and made sure not to eat anything. He wondered if having less food to throw up would be worse - that morning’s vomit had burned like hell, but it hadn’t lasted nearly as long as when he had a full breakfast to evacuate. He decided that the coffee was good enough. Then he remembered the large sheet-covered contraption in the centre of the room they had been in. He remembered Solomon’s words. ‘You’ll get to find out exactly what my machine does - first hand.’  
Gerard decided that it really didn’t matter what he had for breakfast. He didn’t know what Solomon had planned for him, and though he didn’t think it had anything to do with forced vomiting, he guessed that it would be much, much worse.   
He retreated back into his room, hoping that he could lose himself in a comic for a couple hours before having to leave. At around twelve fifty, his mother popped into his room to tell him to go get ready. He reluctantly put down his book and walked with her down the stairs. Before they left, his father kissed his mother and gave her a quick hug. They glared at each other over her shoulder. Their unspoken agreement became clearer as the days went on: If Gerard kept his mouth shut around his mother, he could keep his front teeth as well. He began to wonder if his father knew the true extent of what Dr. Solomon was going, or if he was nearly as clueless as his mother. Gerard decided that it didn’t matter - all of this was still his fault.  
Gerard and his mom drove in silence. Things were usually a bit quiet the between them, but she could often drag some chat from him better than Gerard’s dad or even Michelle. These days, he rarely ever talked to any members of his family, if at all.  
As they pulled up to the doctor’s office, Gerard’s heart began to speed up again. He took deep, shaky breaths, trying in vain to will his heart to slow down. His mother saw him struggling when they reached a free parking space, and she turned to him when the car had stopped.  
“Gerard? Are you alright?”  
“Y-Yes,” Gerard said, “Sorry. I just...don’t really like going to the doctor’s. Dr. Solomon um...well we talk about things I usually like to keep private. Like my feelings and stuff.”  
“Oh,” his mother said, thought she looked as if she suspected more was going on, “Well you don’t have to worry about that. You can trust Dr. Solomon; he may seem cold, but he’s a very kind man.”  
Gerard didn’t respond.  
“Gerard,” his mother egged on, “Are you absolutely sure that there’s nothing else bothering you? You’ve barely eaten anything in the past few days.” She didn’t make any connection to the fact that all of this had started right after his first appointment.   
Ah-ha, he thought in disgust, you’re ready to show some concern for me when dad isn’t around to glare at you.  
He realized his hypocrisy, but couldn’t bring himself to feel sympathy for her. His cowardice only affected him, but her cowardice was a huge reason why her own son had gone through years of verbal abuse, and now this. He didn’t know what he expected from her. On one hand, he didn’t want anything to happen to her. He had never seen his father hit his mother, but he didn’t think it was below the man. On the other hand, it would have been nice to see her actually raise a hand to help her son instead of cowering from the silent threats of her husband.  
Gerard thought all of this in one conflicting and bitter moment before replying, “Everything’s fine mom.” He got out of the car without leaning in for a kiss, or even saying good-bye. He couldn’t see her face because he didn’t turn back, but he guessed she looked hurt. He hoped she was.  
Gerard didn’t have to sit for long in the waiting room. The same nurse who had carried away his vomit container the week before was there again to show him to the room. Now that he wasn’t sobbing and shaking, he could see her clearly. She was a tall, thin, angular woman with dirty blonde hair tied neatly back into a tight bun. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties.  
She stopped sharply when they reached the door, “In there,” she said crisply, barely moving her thin lips. Gerard opened the door and went in, thinking that Solomon and his nurse would make a perfectly efficient and terrifying couple.  
Dr. Solomon was waiting for him inside the room. Gerard froze when he saw him. Or rather, he froze when he saw what he was doing.  
The contraption in the middle of the large room was uncovered, and Solomon was prepping it for use. It was a giant chair, almost like one you could find in a dentist's office, except this chair had restraints on it and a small monitor extended in front of it. Beside the chair was a giant whirring box with rows of switches, dials and blinking red lights on it. Hanging down from the box were sets of wires with little translucent squares on them.  
“Wh-what is this?”  
Solomon looked up and grinned, “Don’t you remember? I told you to get excited for it last week!” The grin quickly melted from his face. It was as if facial expressions were simply masks he put on for appropriate moments instead of expressions of his emotions. Gerard wondered if he had any.  
“Well don’t just stand there,” the doctor snapped, “Come on!” He impatiently walked over to Gerard and dragged him to the chair. “Sit,” he commanded.  
Gerard opened his mouth to speak, ready to ask what he was planning to do, knowing that finding out probably wouldn’t make it any better. He was interrupted by Solomon shoving him roughly into the chair and yelling, “YOU DO AS I SAY YOUNG MAN.”  
Gerard immediately shut up. He felt tears beginning to form in his eyes and hated himself for being so weak. Frank’s angry words came back to him and he began to wonder if he had done the right thing. Before, Gerard had seen it as choosing between the rules his family had raised him with and betraying all of that for friendship with a boy he had only met a few days prior. He was beginning to see it as life in captivity vs. rebelling against his captors with someone who didn’t just see him as another disappointment. Except he had disappointed Frank, and now that they hadn’t spoken for so long, he didn’t know if he would accept him again.  
“Take off your shirt,” the doctor said.  
Gerard froze, “...What?”  
“Are you deaf, boy?”  
Gerard shook his head. He knew that such a response was stupid, but he was too scared to do anything else.  
Solomon sighed in disgust and lunged forward, grabbing the bottom of Gerard’s t-shirt and pulling upwards, ripping his shirt off in one swift motion. The force of the movement threw Gerard’s arm’s up roughly, and he grabbed his shoulder in pain. Then his hands went straight to his stomach - he hadn’t been even half-naked in front of anyone ever since he was a little kid. Even in the change rooms for gym class, he would change with his arms inside one shirt, wriggling the other underneath and putting it on so that his torso would be covered at all times. He hated the fat on his stomach, and the privacy of being able to hide it taken away by someone even as unfeeling as Solomon was too much to bear. He sat frozen in mortification and shame while the doctor made him recline.  
Dr. Solomon began clasping the restraints on the chair - one for each wrist, his forehead, his waist, and his feet. When the doctor pulled his hands away from his stomach, he felt vulnerable and exposed. Every muscle in Gerard's body was screaming at him to fight back, but he didn’t even move.  
Frank was right, he thought angrily, you really are a coward. He couldn’t tell if he was shaking out of fear or self-loathing.  
Solomon turned and bent over to the little wires attached to the box. At first glance, Gerard thought he had recognized what they were, but he wasn’t thinking clearly enough to make the connection. The doctor began sticking them to his forehead, torso, and the backs of his hands, and Gerard realized that they were electrodes. He had seen a disturbing scene including electrodes in a spy movie he had rented, but he decided against asking Solomon what was about to happen. It would only make the man angrier, and he had a pretty clear idea anyway.  
Dr. Solomon tapped a large switch on the humming box and more of the lights blinked on. He turned a dial and adjusted a slider, and Gerard’s muscles tightened in anticipation for what was about to happen. The doctor pressed another button and the monitor connected to the chair blinked on, showing homoerotica similar to what he had seen the week before.  
“No,” Gerard said shaking his head the best he could with it tied down, “no, no, no, please Dr. Solomon.”  
“Shut up, boy.”  
“I can’t,” Gerard begged, tears streaming down his face, “I can’t do this, please-” his words devolved into incoherent nothings as he fought to keep from sobbing.  
“Look!” Solomon pointed to the screen, “Look at the sinful acts they are committing!”  
Gerard shut his eyes, then promptly felt a stinging slap across the face. He opened his eyes again, forcing himself to look straight ahead at the screen.  
“Do you know what happens to people who engage in such filth?” the doctor asked rhetorically, “They get punished!”  
He pressed a button on the box and a shock of pain went through Gerard’s hands.  
He cried out and tried to clench them, only receiving another shock. He breathed slowly, trying to calm down and brace himself. Things could only get worse from here.  
The pictures progressed and Solomon sneered at him, “Do you see this? Do you know what will happen to you if you ever do anything like this?” He pressed a different button, and this time, he was shocked by the electrodes on his hands and his chest. The pain was much worse this time and he clenched his teeth together to muffle his cries.  
“What was that?” Solomon asked, dramatically putting a hand to his ear, “I don’t think I can hear you.” He adjusted a dial and pressed the button again, this time the shock was even worse and Gerard couldn’t control himself.  
“AAUH, NO. STOP!”  
“What was that?”  
Another shock.  
“PLEASE!”  
“I CAN’T HEAR YOU.”  
Solomon adjusted another dial, and this time the shock came to his forehead as well. Gerard didn’t even have the power to speak coherent English - the yell that came from his mouth was a primal expression of pure pain. His back arched, and he twisted and convulsed in his seat.  
Every few seconds, Solomon would hit him with another shock, giving him only moments to recover before repeating the action again. This went on until Gerard was unaware of how many times he had been shocked. His screams would begin loud and then deteriorate into weeping and then sniveling. The whimpers would die down only to be replaced by screaming, and the cycle would begin again.  
Finally, Solomon finished his treatment. Quickly and wordlessly, he removed the electrodes from Gerard’s skin, turned off the monitor, and unplugged the box. He left the room, leaving Gerard to sit there for the duration of the appointment. There was no clock in the room, and Gerard had no idea how long he had been in there. He spent the rest of the time trying to stop the erratic breathing that came from heavy crying. When he had finally calmed down, he realized how exhausted he was. Crying so hard gave him a horrible headache and made him extremely tired. He began to nod off, comforted by the fact that he could at least escape through sleep. It would probably be the first time in several days that he had gone to sleep willingly.  
Just as his eyelids began to flutter closed, the nurse walked into the room, the keen clicking of her heels shaking Gerard from the comforting idea of sleep. She began to undo the buckles keeping him in, not saying a word the entire time. She picked up his t-shirt, which had been carelessly tossed to the ground, and gave it to him.  
“Put your shirt back on,” she finally said, “You mother is outside. I assume Dr. Solomon has told you that the details of these meetings are to be held in confidentiality, yes?”  
Gerard nodded.  
“Good,” she affirmed. She gently helped him out of the seat, not out of kindness, but more like someone gingerly carrying a bag of garbage. Gerard swore she showed more sympathy to his vomit than to him. His legs were wobbly as they arrived to the waiting room, but he tried to control his walking when he saw his mother’s car outside through the glass. He could see her looking at them through her window, and he waved a friendly goodbye at the nurse, smiling for extra measure. She rolled her eyes and walked away.  
Gerard didn’t say anything when he got into his mother’s car. She still looked a bit miffed about his earlier aloofness, but she tried for a smile.  
“Hello, dear.”  
Gerard turned to her, smiled weakly, then leaned his head onto the window and immediately fell asleep. The ride home was the most peaceful five minutes of his entire week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far! Remember, I love comments, so don't be afraid to send me a little message!


	8. Thank You For the Venom VIII: Beneath the Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard returns to the Band of the Serpent's Son

Thank You For the Venom VIII: Beneath the Mark

Thursday and Friday morning went by even worse than the beginning of the week. Gerard’s diet had gotten so scarce that even his father began to openly show his concern - if it could be called that. On Thursday evening, when Gerard didn’t come downstairs for dinner, his three family members barged into his room and shoved a plate full of food into his hands. The very sight of it made him sick, but they stayed and made sure he ate at least half of it. The second they left the room, he could feel it all rising back up in his throat, and he ran to the bathroom as the chunks flew out.  
That night, it took Gerard roughly three hours to fall asleep. When he finally did, he had no idea that he was dreaming. His eyes were still open, and he was still in his room, but after a while, he began to notice a dark figure in the corner of his room beside his door. He opened his mouth to say something, but he found that he couldn’t move the muscles in his face. He tried to move his arms and legs, but they were stuck as well.  
The figure began to slowly move closer, somehow without moving its legs. As it neared the moonlight from Gerard’s half-open window, Gerard became certain that Dr. Solomon was in his bedroom. He tried to call out for help, but he was still frozen. He eventually convinced himself that he was tied down like he had been the day before and that Solomon was here to continue the therapy in his own home.  
Solomon got closer and closer, not even breathing as he slowly reached Gerard’s bed. The moonlight reflected off his glasses, so Gerard couldn’t even see his eyes. In the next moment, he was pressing his hands down on Gerard’s chest - somehow he had moved to Gerard’s side while at the same time staying completely still. At first, the pressure was just annoying, but it soon became painful, and Gerard struggled to breathe.  
This went on for what seemed like hours until Solomon melted away and was replaced by Gerard’s mother. He blinked and his dark room was flooded with sunlight. His mother was clutching him tightly, crying and yelling his name. When she had come in to wake him up, he had been seizing and thrashing violently in his bed. Upon realizing that he was in fact being held by his mother and not a doctor who had broken into his house, he began to calm down and regained control of his limbs.  
The rest of Friday didn’t get any better. He spent the rest of the day staring at the phone on his dresser, daring himself to call Frank, but he couldn’t. The longer he waited to talk to him, the harder it got, and five o’clock was creeping up sooner than he liked. He had absolutely nothing to do - there were way less chores to do during the summer, and his mother insisted on taking care of the house work anyway. His father was away at work for most of the day and his sister wasn’t around to bug him - it should have felt like he had all the time in the world to do whatever he wanted, yet it felt like he had seconds left before the awkward confrontation with Frank that was bound to happen.  
He paced around his room, trying to work out what to say. He thought back to what he had seen the week before. There was no way to create a logical explanation for it - Salem Novus wasn’t an earthquake prone area, and he saw Ray’s hand actually glowing. There was no way to deny that they were in fact practicing magic - in one of the most anti-witchcraft areas in the country. Gerard tried to convince himself that it wasn’t so bad; he had always liked the idea of having magic powers, he just never thought that they actually existed.  
Then Gerard thought about what had happened on Wednesday, and what would happen every Wednesday after that. It came to him that he had chosen to abide by the rules of a father who would put him through conversion therapy, rather than give his only friend a chance to show him an important part of his life. It still scared the hell out of Gerard, but in hindsight, it wasn’t half as scary as being strapped to a chair and shocked repeatedly. He made up his mind - that evening, he would apologize to Frank for freaking out and maybe ask Ray to tell him more about their group. It was then that Gerard also decided that he was officially insane.

Frank wasn’t there when he arrived at the youth group. Gerard had gotten there early so they would have time to talk beforehand, but the only person in the basement was Simon. They greeted each other politely and Gerard sat in a chair, waiting nervously for Frank to arrive.  
The minutes passed, and more kids began to arrive, lifelessly plopping down into their seats and readying themselves for another session of boredom. Gerard stared intently at the door, trying to will Frank into descending the stairs and finally arriving - but he never did. All the other kids were there except for Frank, and after a few more minutes, Simon began the lesson.  
Gerard timidly interrupted him, “Um...Simon? Sorry. I don’t think Frank is here.”  
“Ah yes,” Simon said, looking relieved, “What a pity. Perhaps he’s not feeling well.” He continued on with the lesson, which was about the story of the Good Samaritan.  
The Samaritan had been one of many people who had passed a man who had been beaten, robbed, and left for dead on the side of the road. All the people who were expected to be kind and generous - a priest and a member of a respected tribe - turned their backs on the man and kept walking. Then a Samaritan came along, and instead of walking away as the others had, he stopped to help the man. The story was supposed to have been surprising to the people of the time, because Samaritans and Jews hated each other.   
Gerard usually managed to zone out during Bible stories - he used to like them as a child, but not much anymore - except given the events of the past few days, the parable struck a chord with him. He had been disrespected and robbed of his privacy - the few people he was supposed to be able to trust had turned their backs on him, and the only person who seemed to give a shit was some little runt who everyone else thought was just another troubled delinquent. The story seemed to fit too well - and it made Gerard upset. Instead of showing Frank gratitude, he had pushed him away and probably made him feel like a freak. He didn’t imagine there were a lot of people on Dolorosa he would feel comfortable revealing that kind of secret to, and Gerard had not only thrown it away, but didn’t bother talking to him for a week. No wonder he wasn’t there.  
Gerard also remembered what Frank said - how he had made fun of his cowardice around his father. So maybe Gerard wasn’t completely in the wrong. Either way, he was going to make things right.  
After the lesson ended, they had a discussion, which was mostly Simon talking because none of the other teenagers wanted to say anything. He dismissed them with a sigh, probably planning to work with little kids next summer instead of a pack of zombies. The second they were free, Gerard bounded out of the door and headed straight for the forest. He hadn’t told his mother about the fight, so she would still cover for him.  
As soon as he set foot in the woods, he began to feel a fear that he wouldn’t remember where the house was. It shouldn’t have been too hard to find - the woods were small, and he didn’t remember Frank taking any turns on the way. Still, the idea of getting lost in this particular forest made him nervous; there was something about it that made the hairs on his arms stand on end. He thanked the God he didn’t believe in that the sun set late in the summer.   
Just as a horrible feeling of panic came to him and he thought he was lost, Gerard saw the little house on its circle of ash at the edge of his sight. He ran towards it, nearly tripping over large tree roots and bushes. By the time he got there, his calves were all scratched up, even through the denim of his pants. He stopped running when he reached a few feet in front of the door, suddenly losing the drive that had given him the courage to go thus far. Doubts began to flood his mind; was Frank still mad? Would he even want to speak to him? Gerard took a deep breath and finally decided to walk forward; if Frank didn’t want to talk to him ever again, at least this way he would know for sure instead of just wondering.  
Gerard scoured his mind, trying desperately to remember the knock Frank had done to get in - he couldn’t recall exactly, but it was a series of knocks in a set of three. He stepped nervously up to the door and knocked until it felt right - then repeated that three times. For a while there was silence, and Gerard noticed for the first time how little of the noise from inside could be heard from outside. There was still the soft hum of a party that he heard last week - but it sounded so faint and far away, as if it were happening a block away. Then he remembered what Frank had said about ‘no one feeling compelled to come here,’ and guessed whatever weird camouflage magic they had put on the area also helped keep too much noise from escaping.   
The slider on the door opened suddenly, and Gerard was jolted from his thoughts. He saw Bob’s lips come close to the opening.  
“Pass?” He said gruffly.  
Gerard’s heart skipped a beat in panic, but then he looked at the snake engraved in the door and remembered the passcode, “Venom,” he replied shakily.  
There was a pause on the other end, and he could tell that Bob was trying to recognize his voice. “Wait a minute,” he said, “Who is this?”  
“Uh...it’s Gerard.”  
The slider immediately slammed shut and for a second, Gerard felt completely hopeless. You’ve done it, he thought angrily, you’ve completely pushed away all these other kids who could possibly understand you, and now Bob won’t even let you in to talk to Frank.  
He turned dejectedly to leave, but just as he took the first step, a sound of locks and chains clicking came from behind the door. He turned to see Frank standing in the doorway. The open door let out the sound of loud partying. The two stared at each other in silence before Frank closed the door, muffling the rave inside.  
“Hey,” Frank said quietly. He was wearing eyeliner again, but this time it was a deep red that almost made him look ill.  
Gerard suddenly considered his appearance and realized that he probably looked the same, only from malnourishment and lack of sleep.  
“Hey,” Gerard finally responded.  
“They’re ah...they’re about to start the next ‘cult’ meeting,” Frank muttered, “so I don’t know if you want to be here.”  
“Frank - about that. I came to apologize.” The words stuck in Gerard’s throat - he still felt hurt by Frank mocking his situation at home, but he refused to lose the first real friend he had made.  
“Really?” Frank looked shocked, “I thought you came here to try and tell me to leave them.”  
Gerard shook his head, “No. I was...I was just really freaked out, you know? Like imagine just being told out of the blue that magic is real, and then experiencing a freaking earthquake to prove it.”  
“Yeah…” Frank scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “I’ll admit, that probably wasn’t the best way to show you. But I swear, it’s not at that scary, it’s actually really fun!” Frank began to perk up back to his usual self.  
Gerard returned the grin, “Well I mean...that’s great ‘cause...I was wondering if maybe I could sit in for tonight...and...maybe decide if I want to join?”  
Frank’s grin widened to a smile, “Really? That’s great, of course you can!”  
“But...uh. If...if I don’t end up joining you...do you think we can still be friends?”  
Gerard looked up nervously, hoping that his entire friendship didn’t depend on him pledging allegiance to a cult.  
Frank smiled sadly, “Yeah. I mean, I was really hoping that you’d join us. But it was kinda shitty of me to freak out on you like that. We said it was your choice, but I still acted like you did something wrong.”  
“Speaking of that,” Gerard cut in quickly, using his confidence while he had it, “I just need to get one thing clear. I’m...I’m not still mad at you for what you said about my dad last week,” Gerard was lying, but he told himself he’d get over it soon, “But you can’t do that again, ok? You can call me whatever you want, but things are bad at home, and that’s not something you can make fun of.”  
He looked at Frank, expecting to see anger or jeering disgust. Instead, he saw sympathy and shame.  
“I’m really sorry about that,” Frank said quietly. He clasped one of his arms with his hand and looked down at the ground, “I felt like complete crap after saying that. I guess I’m just so used to breaking all the rules that I forgot it’s not as easy for everyone. But I don’t think you’re a coward, Gerard. I guess I was so scared that you’d push me away, I tried to hurt you before you had the chance to hurt me first. I guess that makes me the coward, huh?”  
Frank finally made eye contact and flushed bright red, seemingly embarrassed that he had been so honest about himself instead of joking around like he usually did. He laughed and tried to brush the moment away.  
“Well if we’re finished with pillow talk, I think we should go inside - they’re gonna start soon.”  
Frank reached out and grabbed Gerard’s hand as he opened to door to go back inside, “I’ve gotta warn you, sometimes we get pretty...intense. But don’t worry. Just stay next to me, and if you don’t want to do something, I’ll just tell them to lay off.”  
Gerard nodded, trying to seem more assured than he actually was. The moment they stepped inside the house, the noise seemed to amplify by a hundred, and once again he was plunged into the sea of sweaty teenagers. He always found it odd that being a teenager himself, they seemed to scare the living shit out of him, but he supposed he felt that way about people in general.  
Frank pulled him through to crowd all the way to the fireplace, which Gerard suddenly noticed was giving off no heat, and neither were the many candles scattered around the hall. No wonder they managed to survive summer heat with the windows boarded up - the flames were magic and just for show. They found Ray, who was chatting to some other guys by his usual place on the couch in front of the fireplace.  
“Hey, Ray!” Frank called. The two walked around to the front of the couch and Frank addressed the guys Ray was talking to, “Hey, could you guys fuck off for a second, that’d be great.”  
Ray and Gerard both winced at Frank’s language, but the two scowling guys left anyway. Frank may have been younger than some of the twenty-something members, but he had been part of the group a lot longer than most others. What he lacked in intimidating height, he made up for in confident seniority.  
“Gerard!” Ray exclaimed when he saw him, “You came back!”  
“Uh, yeah,” Gerard said shyly, “I wanted to apologize for how I freaked out-”  
“No, no, no,” Ray shook his head and his large hair swayed in the movement, “I should be the one apologizing. I really shook you up, didn’t I?”  
“Kinda,” Gerard admitted, “But I think I’ll sit in for today. See what it’s like, you know? I mean...if that’s okay.”  
“Of course!” Ray said excitedly, “Man, I’m so glad you came back. You have no idea what a nightmare Frank is when he’s upset. He wouldn’t talk to anyone for days after last Friday.”  
“Ray!” Frank said through gritted teeth, “Shut up!”  
Ray laughed, stood up, and clapped both of them on the back, “Well let’s forget all that now. We have a meeting to start.”  
Ray went to the speakers and turned them down so that the music wasn’t completely off, but could be heard softly beneath his voice. The members stopped dancing and turned to look at him but refrained from shouting when they saw that it was Ray.  
“Hey guys!” He cupped his hands and yelled at them, “We’re gonna begin our ritual for the night, so gather in. And guess what? Our noob came back!” Some of the members grumbled in annoyance at how quickly Gerard was being accepted, but most of them cheered.  
Ray walked back to the fireplace and opened the wardrobe while the rest of the guys rushed over to the couches surrounding the fireplace. They formed a tight semicircle around it. Frank grabbed Gerard’s arm and they squeezed their way into the group. Ray returned holding a black chalice with a pattern of a snake coiling all around it, as well as a black dagger in his hands. They both looked old and worn, and they gave off a sinister vibe that made Gerard’s stomach churn.  
Ray walked into the middle of the group towards the small altar in the middle, and placed the chalice carefully on it’s surface. Gerard stood on his toes and found that it was halfway full of a dark liquid. The hellish lightning almost made it look like blood. The second the chalice touched the altar, a series of glowing patterns flashed and revealed themselves on both, writhing and connecting with each other to make the image of a mass of coiled snakes. The glowing died down and Ray spread his arms outwards.  
“We begin the Filling of the Cup,” he proclaimed towards the ceiling.  
The group murmured excitedly, but Frank looked nervous. He addressed Gerard with a whisper, “This is where it gets a little...weird. But you can say no if you want. Just stay where you are when Ray calls you and he’ll know to move on to the next person.”  
“What?” Gerard asked, “What is he going to do?”  
“You’ll see.”  
“What does that-”  
“Sshhh. Look.”  
Ray then took the knife in his left hand and used it to slice the flesh of his right thumb along his snake mark. Gerard gasped in horror as the wound opened. Both the mark and Ray’s eyes began to glow an unnatural shade of bright green. He held his hand over the chalice and clenched his fist, allowing the drops of blood to drip into it. Gerard had the sickening realization that the liquid was in fact blood. The blood in the chalice began to glow green as well, and Ray closed his eyes as a shiver seemed to come across his body. When he opened his eyes again, he was back to his normal self. He turned to the guy nearest to the right side of the fireplace and called for him to step forward. He performed the act again, this time slicing the guy’s hand for him and holding the member’s wrist as the blood dripped into the cup.  
Gerard turned fearfully to Frank, who tried his best to assure him without making a lot of noise, “Remember what I said Gerard, you don’t have to do this.”  
“What’s gonna happen if I don’t?”  
Frank’s eyebrows lowered and a sad look came over his face, “Then you won’t be able to join. But it’s fine, I’m not gonna pressure you to-”  
“I’ll do it,” Gerard said, trying to sound determined.  
Frank smiled, “Really?”  
“Yeah. It’s just - that dagger looks kinda rusty...and I don’t think we should be putting the same object into everyone’s bloodstream-”  
Frank snickered, “Oh my God, you are such a dork.”  
“Because I don’t want tetanus?” Gerard asked defensively.  
“Dude,” Frank laughed, “We have fucking magic. Trust me; you’re not gonna get an infection.”  
“Hey,” some guy beside them growled, “Would you two shut up?”  
“Bite me,” Frank countered, but stayed silent while the ritual went on.   
Ray made his way slowly around the circle, bleeding each member one by one, and Gerard began to notice a pattern. Each member seemed to be associated with a certain colour; either red, green, silver, or blue. When their blood entered the chalice, the rest of the blood, their eyes, and the mark on their hand glowed that colour while they entered their weird, brief trance.  
It neared Frank’s turn to go up, and he began bouncing the way he did when he was excited. Gerard leaned in toward him, whispering quietly so the guy beside them wouldn’t get mad again, “Hey Frankie? I know this whole thing is like a special ritual or whatever, but why do you look so pumped to get sliced with a knife?”  
Frank laughed, “Oh, you’ll see.”  
“Stop saying that!”  
“Hey, since when do you call me ‘Frankie?’”  
Gerard froze with embarrassment and Frank laughed again. His name was called and he winked at Gerard as he stepped forward to play his part. Gerard wondered where ‘Frankie’ had come from, but he forgot all about being embarrassed when he saw Frank perform the ritual.  
Frank was one of the one’s whose mark glowed red. Gerard could mostly see him from just the side, but even from there he looked demonic when his eyes glowed deep red. Then he held his fist out and clenched it over the chalice, his tiny body shivering slightly when the drops of blood fell. When he opened his eyes again, they were back to their normal colour. He walked back to his spot with a smirk on his face.  
“Your turn, Gee.”  
“Gee?” Gerard asked.  
“If I get a dumb nickname, then you do to.”  
Gerard was about to protest, but Ray called out his name and he hesitantly stepped forward, making sure not to trip in front of all those people. His goal of being calm and cool was ruined when Frank reached out and smacked his butt. The circle erupted into laughter and one guy even whistled. Gerard turned around defensively, but Frank shoved him towards the altar. Ray yelled at everyone to be quiet, but Gerard could see the smile on his face. Gerard didn’t know whether to be mortified that Frank had touched his backside, or grateful that the group seemed to be laughing affectionately.  
“Gerard,” Ray said loudly, an indication for the remaining snickers to die down, “By taking part in your first ritual, you are pledging yourself to Jormungand. Each time you participate in the Filling of the Cup, you bind yourself closer and closer Him. When the time comes, the drinker of the cup will summon Jormungand, and be named the Serpent’s Son. With the power evoked from him on the day of summoning, we will create the New World. Do you allege yourself to the World Serpent?”  
Gerard’s eyes went wide. He had no idea what Ray had just said, and he was pretty sure he had heard him say that someone would have to drink blood, “I...uh…”  
Ray leaned in and whispered helpfully, “Just say yes. The pledge doesn’t actually bind you, it’s more for show than anything else.  
“Um...yes?”  
The members cheered and Gerard gingerly held out his hand, anticipating the piercing blade, but Ray continued to speak as he held his wrist, “When all the blood has been contributed, we will apply the Evoking Chant, adding to the power of the blood at each weekly interval. Do you promise to contribute your blood to ours when we call upon you?”  
Gerard gulped, “...Yes.”  
Ray nodded and slowly lowered the knife. He saw how freaked out Gerard was and made the cut fast, quickly sliding the blade over the fat of his thumb. Gerard bit his lip and winced, but refused to make any noise. If he could survive administered shocks while tied down to a chair, he could survive this. As soon as the blade left his hand, a mark began to form beneath the blood - it was a tiny snake made of little red patches of flesh.  
“Do you see the new mark on your hand?” Ray asked, “If you decide to return to us next week, that mark will elongate and darken into what we have on our hands. If you decide that you don’t want to join, it will fade away, and you will be unbound from Jormungand.”  
Gerard was itching to ask who this ‘Jormungand’ was, but he didn’t want to interrupt. Ray grasped his wrist and held it out over the chalice, where his blood began to drip down. Half a second before the blood made contact, Gerard saw his mark glow silver - then the world around him was washed over with the same silvery light, and he felt his muscles tighten suddenly. He closed his eyes, and the sensation that washed over him felt so good, it felt wrong - almost dirty. It then occurred to him why Frank and the others enjoyed this ritual so much.  
When he opened his eyes, the members around him were all grinning happily - they no longer seemed all that intimidating to him, and it dawned on Gerard that with this new group, it was possible to have more than just Frank as a friend. He looked at Ray, who was smiling as well - regardless of what happened with the other guys, he knew Ray would definitely make a good friend. He smiled back and Ray held up his wrist, showing everyone the newly formed mark.  
“I present to you, Gerard, the newest member of our group.” He turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder, “Congratulations, Gerard. You have just joined the Band of the Serpent's Son.”


	9. Thank You for the Venom IX: You Can't Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens.
> 
> Ok, on a serious note, my summary writing efforts have really gone down the drain. I know they're not necessary, but I still feel obligated to write them despite my inability to come up with something creative.

Thank You For the Venom IX: You Can’t Understand 

The loud music had resumed, and the band members resumed their dancing and loud singing. A few of them even clapped Gerard on the back and smiled reassuringly when they passed by. Frank disappeared into the crowd and came back with Solo cups of beer for him, Gerard, and Ray. Gerard had never had alcohol before, but he knew a little beer wouldn’t do much. He took a tentative sip and grimaced; it tasted like soap. Ray and Frank laughed.  
“You’ll get used to the taste,” Ray said, “It’s really not as bad as you think.”  
“Gerard’s just a priss, and doesn’t like drinking underage.”  
Gerard shot Frank an angry look and for a second, Frank was scared he had reached another sensitive nerve - then Gerard laughed it off and he sighed internally with relief. After a while, Ray went off to talk to some other group members, leaving Gerard and Frank to lean against the back of a couch while sipping on their beers. They watched the dancing crowd, and for the first time, Gerard got a good look at all of them. They had seemed wild from the get-go, but he had never noticed how...passionately they seemed to dance with one another.  
Then a song with an oddly harmonic mix of screaming and moaning came on and Frank perked up, “Aww man, this is my favourite song! We have to go dance!” His eyes flashed as he looked at Gerard expectantly.  
“Oh, um…” Gerard said, “I...I dunno, I can’t really dance…”  
“Bullshit,” Frank scoffed, “Everyone can dance. You just gotta find the right music.”  
Gerard raised an eyebrow, “And...this is the music you think I should dance to?”  
Frank laughed and grabbed his hand after putting down their beers, “Come on!” He pulled him into the crowd of dancers and began bouncing and pumping his fists.  
Alright, Gerard thought, fist pumping, I can do that.  
Then the song slowed down a bit and went back to the singer’s erotic moans that made Gerard extremely uncomfortable. Frank got a devious look in his eyes and suddenly wrapped his arms behind Gerard’s neck, pulling him in close.  
“Frank! What are you-”  
“Just dance with me,” Frank whispered in his ear. It would have sounded a lot more dominant if Frank didn’t have to stand on his toes just to reach Gerard’s head.  
Gerard felt his cheeks burn up, but he allowed himself to be swayed back and forth in time to the music. Then Frank pulled him closer until their hips were touching - and then he pulled even him closer until he was full on grinding against him.  
“Frank?” Gerard could barely even hear his voice beneath the loud music.  
Frank closed his eyes and put his head on Gerard’s shoulder.  
“I-” Gerard didn’t know what to do. He wanted to let go, but he felt his arms moving to circle Frank’s waist. It came to him that Frank had always been kind of flirty from the moment they met. He just assumed that was his personality, but he didn’t act like this with Ray or anyone else, and an obvious realization suddenly came to him.  
“Oh shit,” he said under his breath. Then he looked around and noticed that most of the other dancing kids, all of them male, were moving in the same fashion as him and Gerard, and some were a lot more vigorous about it as well. He looked back down and realized - he had just joined a cult of gay witches.  
Then Gerard noticed that Frank’s hands were slowly moving away from his neck, down his back. They continued to lower until Gerard could feel some of Frank’s fingers slip into the waist of his jeans. The contact caught him off guard and his heart skipped a beat - for a second, he was no longer dancing, but strapped down to a chair and being forced to look at a monitor in a doctor’s office. He could see the images on the screen clear as a day, and his muscles tightened suddenly in anticipation of the shock that would come from viewing them.  
The sudden movement freaked Frank out and he pulled away slightly, looking up at Gerard with concern, “Hey, what’s up?”  
A sudden wave of nausea began to rise in Gerard’s stomach and his eyes widened, “I need to leave,” he said quietly.  
“What?” Frank yelled over the music.  
Gerard just stood there feeling helpless as tears began to form in his eyes.  
“Dude,” Frank insisted, “What’s wrong? Did...did I do something?”  
Gerard shook his head and looked towards the door, hoping that was enough for Frank to know he wanted to get out.  
Frank frowned, but got his meaning and led him outside. The sun was beginning to set, but they still squinted from the sudden contrast in lighting.  
Gerard leaned against the wall beside the door as soon as he got out, taking deep breaths to keep himself from throwing up.  
“I...I’m sorry,” Frank mumbled, looking down at his feet, “I won’t do that again. I didn’t know it would make you so uncomfortable.”  
Gerard just continued to shake his head, trying to communicate that it wasn’t Frank's fault, “No...it’s not-” but then the nausea hit again and he shut his mouth.  
“Shit,” Frank spat angrily, “I’m such an idiot, I thought-” words cut off and he looked at Gerard, “Dammit, I keep messing everything up.”  
“No!” Gerard insisted, “It’s not your fault, I don’t know why I-” Gerard inhaled, trying to figure out what to say. He thought of telling Frank everything - about his father and Dr. Solomon and the therapy, but the thought of recalling all the embarrassing things he had allowed himself to go through filled him with shame, and the tears started spilling over his cheeks.  
“Gerard?” Frank asked frantically, “What’s wrong, why are you crying?”  
Gerard opened his mouth to speak, but not words came out, so he just covered his face.  
“Gerard! If I didn’t do it, then what...what’s wrong? Why won’t you tell me?”  
Gerard refused to show his face while he was still crying, so he just stood there silently, waiting for Frank to get exasperated and leave. Except he didn’t. Gerard felt two arms wrap around him, and when he uncovered his face, he saw that Frank was nearly on the verge of tears as well.  
“Gerard, I don’t know what’s going on, but you can tell me, ok? It’s...it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. I don’t expect you to-”  
Gerard felt himself laugh.  
“What?” Frank asked.  
“You’re so dumb,” Gerard said as he began wiping tears away.  
“What do you mean?”  
“You didn’t know that I liked you?”  
Frank’s eyebrows knitted together and he pulled away defensively, “Well...I dunno! You act all flustered around me, but everything makes you flustered! And anyway, I’ve been flirting with you from the beginning, and you were just as clueless!”  
Gerard found himself laughing even more, and Frank joined in. When Gerard had finally dried his face, Frank turned to him, becoming serious again.  
“But really, Gerard. If you need to talk about anything - anything, you know you can talk to me, right?”  
Gerard looked away and sighed, “It’s...just. It’s complicated. Do you remember how I said things were bad at home?”  
Frank nodded.  
“Well, I wasn’t joking. They’re like...really bad.”  
Frank cracked his knuckles, “Need me to beat anyone up?”  
“No!” Gerard laughed, “No, just...sometimes it’s just a lot, you know?”  
“Yeah,” Frank agreed, “But you seem really on edge. I mean, your eyes are redder than mine, and I’m the one wearing makeup. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard said.  
Frank sighed, unhappy with this response, “Fine, but if things get any worse, you come tell me, okay?”  
“Yeah, okay,” Gerard smiled. “Oh crap,” he said suddenly, “How long have I been here?”  
Neither of them were wearing watches.  
“Shit,” Frank agreed, “you better get out of here.”  
“Okay,” Gerard said sadly, “and I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to talk on the phone - my parents are really on my case.”  
Frank winked as he waved Gerard off, “I guess I’ll just have to wait for next week...Gee.”  
Gerard smiled back as he retreated into the forest, “Until next time, Frankie.”  
As Gerard walked back home, he thought about how eventful the day had been. He had tried his first beer and gained membership to a cult as well as what could possibly be his first boyfriend all in one night. 

Gerard inserted his house key into the lock, quietly pushing the door open and tiptoeing inside. He didn’t know how late he was, but he didn’t want to make a big deal of showing it. The second the door opened, he heard stomping from upstairs and knew he was done for. He thought of hiding, but his father was already ascending the stairs, which were only a few steps away.  
“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TIME IT IS?”His father’s voice came booming down the steps even louder than his stomps.  
Gerard glanced to his left at the clock in the living room - he had stayed out more than an hour after youth group had ended. Perhaps his father had expected his talk with Simon to be ten, maybe twenty minutes, but an hour was too suspicious. His heart raced as he tried to form an excuse - he couldn’t think of anything. Then, his mother came rushing from the living room, followed by Michelle. He looked at his mother angrily, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes.  
“I had to tell him,” she said to the floor, “I was worried.”  
Gerard froze, “You...you told him-”  
“About Frank!” His father spat, completely red in the face, “After running around, calling all our neighbours, asking where you were, she finally told me that you had planned to meet up with that...that miscreant faggot!”  
Michelle gasped and their mother hid her face. The slur hit Gerard like a truck. He had heard annoying teenage boys throw the word around with their friends, but never had it been uttered with such hatred and disgust right to his face.  
“Dad!” He cried, “You...you can’t say that!”  
“And why not?” His father countered, getting up in his face, “Why would you be offended by that word?”  
Gerard looked desperately for support from his mother and sister, but they were both frozen, his mother staring at the ground, and his sister staring at their father.  
“B-because it’s rude,” Gerard said quietly, knowing how weak his argument sounded. He wanted to say that his father’s use of the word as an insult made him complete scum - but he doubted that would go well.  
“Oh really,” his father mocked, “You stay out late without telling us, and you have the gall to tell me about rudeness in my house?”  
“Dad, I only stayed out for an hour longer!” Gerard tried to reason, “And I thought you wanted me out of the house more!”  
“Not if you’re just going to spend time with that...that-”  
‘Don’t,” Gerard said, “Don’t say that word again.”  
“WHY NOT?”  
Gerard didn’t respond. His father got closer and closer until he could smell his breath...he realized with dread that his father could probably smell his.  
“Have...have you been drinking?” His father asked incredulously.  
Gerard quickly shook his head.  
“Oh, don’t lie to me boy,” his father growled, getting even closer and towering over him.  
Gerard tried to take a step back, but his back hit the door and his father grabbed his arm roughly.  
“Where are you going, Gerard?”  
“Leave me alone!” Gerard cried. He used the little place he had to plant his hands firmly on his father’s chest and tried to push him away - just enough that he would have some personal space. He seemed to have pushed much harder than he intended, and his father tumbled backward, landing flat on his ass.  
Everyone was silent; Gerard had never been violent before, and the sight of him sending his father across the floor stunned all of them. Gerard was like a deer in the headlights. He knew the second his dad landed on the ground that what came next wouldn’t end well for him, but he couldn’t move. His mother and sister were similarly frozen with fear.  
“D-dad?” He asked. His father didn’t respond. He just glared at him as he silently got up and walked toward him.  
“Dad, wait, I’m sorry.”  
“Leave him alone!” His mother finally cried, but she didn’t take a step forward to help her son.  
“Shut up!” Gerard’s father yelled, grabbing his son by the collar of his shirt.  
“DAD, STOP!”  
Gerard’s father pulled his fist back and slammed it into Gerard’s face, sending his head into the hard wood of the door. Gerard slid down to the ground, clutching his left eye as stars spun around him. He was so stunned, he didn’t even know if he cried out or not. He just remembered seeing his dad’s fist, then he was on the floor, and then came the pain.  
“Gerard!” His sister screamed as she ran to kneel beside him. “Daddy, why did you do that?” She turned accusingly to her father with tears in her eyes.  
Upon seeing his daughter crying, his expression went blank, “I...I didn’t mean to hit him that hard, I just...dammit, he needed to be taught a lesson!” The look of anger and fear from Michelle was too much for him and he turned to leave, nearly knocking his wife over on his way back up the stairs.  
When his vision finally cleared, Gerard could see Michelle crying beside him. He expected tears to begin falling from his eyes as well, but he seemed to have cried himself dry in the past few days. He was tired of feeling helpless and weak; he was just angry. When she saw Gerard look up, Michelle tried to touch his face, but he brushed her away, stubbornly standing up on his own. He walked slowly past his mother, who reached out to hold him - he ignored her and trudged up the stairs, not looking back when she too, started to cry.  
Gerard walked to his room and stood in the doorway. The little rectangle of privacy was a paradox; on one hand, it provided an escape from the overbearing presence of his family, on the other, it was basically just a prison with a well stocked bookshelf.  
I need a new place, Gerard thought angrily as he shut the door and walked to his dresser. A place where I’m actually free, not just where I can have the illusion of it.  
He looked up at himself in the mirror. The boy who stared back at him wasn’t someone that he recognized. His reflection looked like a tormented and angry kid who had just gotten out of a brawl - his scowl was deep, and his eye was beginning to swell. He looked nothing like the mild mannered and gentle person he always thought of himself as, but he couldn’t be that anymore. This prison was strangling him, and he needed a way out.  
It was then that Gerard decided he definitely wanted to join the Band of the Serpent’s Son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams are coming up, and the fates have decided to give me all the difficult courses in the same semester, so beware of less-frequent updates.


	10. Thank You for the Venom X: Black is the Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Thank You for the Venom X: Black is the Kiss

The next Friday, Frank stood outside beside the door to the basement of Our Lady of Sorrows. Two weeks before, he had vowed not to go back again after his argument with Gerard, but the week following had undone everything - in fact they had taken a few steps forward. When Gerard’s mom’s car pulled up, Frank perked up, excited to cause trouble with his friend (if that was still an appropriate name for their relationship) through youth group.  
When Gerard got out of the car, he looked...different. He wasn’t smiling, but not out of his usual timidness; he looked pissed off. He didn’t say anything to his mother when he left, and as he got closer, Frank could see that he was wearing a black hoodie - similar to Frank’s - and sunglasses. Gerard’s mother looked nervously at Frank for a while. He stared right back at her and she averted her gaze, quickly driving away.  
“Hey, Gee,” Frank said cheerily, making sure to use the pet name, “What’s up?”  
Gerard didn’t say anything as he neared the door.  
“Had a fight with your mom?” Frank asked sympathetically.  
Gerard walked right passed him, descended the stairs and went into the basement without a word. Frank stood there, stunned. He wondered anxiously if he had somehow done something to offend Gerard again, but there was no way; they had left each other on good terms last time - really good terms.  
Gerard came back out a few seconds later. He ascended the stairs quickly and walked up to Frank.  
“Well?” Gerard asked expectantly, “are we going or not?”  
Frank was confused. “Where?”  
“To the house, you know….the Band?”  
Frank furrowed his eyebrows, “But...what about youth group?”  
Gerard looked away, “I told Simon that I wouldn’t be returning to youth group anymore. Gotta focus on my studies. SN University of Theology requires a lot of knowledge, after all.”  
“But…” Frank predicted, “You’re not applying, right?”  
“No,” Gerard shook his head, “Come on, let’s go.” He began to walk toward the forest.  
“Hold on!” Frank yelled as he caught up with him, “You’re lying to your parents and now to Simon? Where is this new rebellious Gerard coming from?”  
Gerard didn’t respond and kept on walking. Frank walked circles around him, trying to get him to laugh or smile, or just do something other than scowl.  
“Hey,” Frank kept asking as they walked in the forest, “What’s up, why are you all moody?”  
Gerard mumbled something under his breath that Frank didn’t hear. He reached out and grabbed the sunglasses off Gerard’s face.  
“And why are you wearing sunglasses if we’re going inside? Since when did you turn into one of those douchebags who-” his joke was cut short when he saw his friend’s face.  
Gerard was glaring angrily at him through red, puffy eyes - well, one red and puffy eye. The other was an angry purple, almost swollen shut.  
“Gimme my glasses back,” Gerard said in a low voice.  
“Gerard...what...what happened?”  
Gerard reached out for the glasses, but Frank swiped them out of his reach, “Gerard, answer me!”  
“It’s fine!” Gerard insisted. His right eye, the red one, began twitching suddenly, and Frank took a step forward, still keeping the glasses behind his back.  
“Gerard, I’m serious, tell me who the fuck did this to you!”  
“FRANK, GIVE ME THE FUCKING GLASSES!”   
Frank stood there, shocked at Gerard raising his voice at him again. “I thought we were cool after last week!” he said, “Why are you still mad at me?”  
Gerard stared at his feet for a while before mumbling, “I’m not mad at you, Frank, I’m just...mad.”  
“So mad that your eye’s twitching?”  
“Wednesday was...rough for me,” Gerard said elusively, “I haven’t slept much in the past three days.”  
There was a silence before Frank asked, “Did your dad do that to you?” He pointed to the black eye.  
“Frank, please-”  
“I swear to God,” Frank said, turning his concern into anger, “I’m gonna break his fucking legs.”  
“I didn’t say it was him!”  
“Was it?”  
Gerard didn’t reply.  
“That’s what I thought,” Frank said angrily.  
Gerard sighed, “Frank, please, just...it’s fine. It was a one time thing, he just got carried away. And you are not going to find him okay, the reason I got punched in the first place was because he found out I was still hanging out with you-” Gerard wanted to take back the words, but it was too late.  
“He hit you because of me?” Frank sounded so guilty, Gerard wanted to smack himself for sounding so harsh.  
“It...it wasn’t your fault,” Gerard said, and began walking towards the meeting place again, “I was out for too long, and that’s what made him suspicious. If I get home the usual time I would after youth group, there won’t be a problem. I’m wearing a watch to keep track of time, and now that I’m not going to church, I can just spend the time with you.” He took his glasses back and put them on.  
“But...are you sure the want to?”  
“Yes.” Gerard was definitely sure.   
They reached the house, and this time Gerard got them in with the knock and password. When Bob opened the door, he sighed.  
“So you decided we aren’t too scary, huh?”  
Gerard scowled.  
“And hey,” Bob continued with a smirk, “Why are you wearing sunglasses? You know we have a no assholes allowed policy, right?”  
Gerard titled his head, “then it’s a wonder they let you in.” He slid past him and walked inside.  
“Whoa,” Bob said, “When did he grow a backbone?”  
“Shut up, Bob,” Frank grumbled as he followed Gerard inside.   
Frank had to scan the crowd of guys before finding Gerard, but it wasn’t too difficult. They had a massive party the night before, and most had either passed out or gone home if they had homes to go to. Ray had been the responsible one as usual and stayed sober enough to make sure no one hurt themselves. He was reading at his usual place by the fire when Gerard went to talk to him.  
“Ray. I need to talk to you.” Gerard was rarely so direct, but his need was urgent.  
Ray looked up from his book, mildly surprised, “What’s up, Gerard? Something wrong?”  
“I want to join the group. For real.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes,” Gerard insisted, “Last week you said that what we did was for show? Well I want the real thing. I’m certain.”  
Ray nodded, “Alright. You can still leave after if you want, it’ll just take longer for your scar to fade.”  
“I won’t be leaving, I can assure you of that.”  
“Okay,” Ray said, getting up. “I’ll start the ritual, but...are you sure nothing’s wrong? You seem on edge today.”  
“I’m okay,” Gerard said, “Trust me.”

The group members had gathered around the fireplace similar to what they had done the week before, except this time, it was a complete circle, and Gerard had been instructed to stand inside. He felt awkward, just standing there, but he told himself to suck it up. It was amazing how fast Ray had woken most of them out of their tired stupor. He had knelt to the ground and touched his hand to the floor while whispering something under his breath. His eyes glowed green and a wave seemed to travel through the room, waking and energizing everyone who had fallen asleep.   
Gerard had been thinking about the whole colour thing all week, and guessed that the colours assigned to them had something to do with their powers. When Ray demonstrated his magic, he only ever interacted with the ground - Gerard guessed that meant he had some kind of power linked to the Earth. Upon realizing that being assigned silver gave Gerard some kind of specialized power, he spent his spare time (when not sulking, or being yelled at) excitedly trying to guess what his powers would be.  
Now in the centre of the circle, Gerard had been instructed to sit on the altar. They began to play ambient music with a deep bass that made Gerard feel relaxed, yet vaguely anxious.  
“Now we need someone to perform the ritual,” Ray said.  
Frank immediately stood up straight, “Me!” He said loudly. There was no need for him to have volunteered so loudly - a few others had jokingly said they would, eyeing Gerard with a smile, but none of them knew him as well as Frank did.  
Gerard wondered what the ritual was, and why Frank was so excited to perform it, but he supposed he would find out soon.  
The members joined hands and began a low chant that was in tune to the music. Slowly, their eyes began to glow their respective colours, shining brighter and brighter which each repetition of the chant, “Bolam akattus sil katusi, bolam akattus sil katusi, bolam akattus sil katusi.”  
Gerard didn't understand what they were saying, but it still filled him with an ominous dread. One member stepped out of the circle and walked towards him - the two other members on either side joined hands to fill the gap. It was hard to tell as their eyes got brighter and brighter - brighter than Gerard had ever seen them, but he could tell it was Frank. The chanting grew in volume and changed in tone.  
“Toth ech ack sileripit echnor sinor, toth ech ack sileripit echnor sinor.”  
Frank neared Gerard, the light from his deep red eyes seemed to pulse along to the music and chanting. Gerard didn’t know what he had expected Frank to do upon arriving to the altar, just...not what he did next.  
“Frank?” Gerard whispered nervously, “What do we do now? What’s the ritual?”  
“Shh,” Frank coaxed, even leaning in to put a finger against Gerard’s lips. He straightened back up, unzipped his hoodie, and then promptly took of his shirt.  
“Frank!” Gerard hissed. At first he felt embarrassed at seeing Frank topless in front of a crowd, but they all seemed to be lost in their trance; it was really just him and Frank. He didn’t know if that made it worse.  
Even Frank’s torso was heavily tattooed, and Gerard couldn’t stop himself from staring. Frank took a step forward and his eyes began to dim slightly. Frank then put his hands on Gerard’s shoulders and his brought his knees up beside Gerard’s hips on the altar, effectively straddling him.  
“Sorry, Gerard,” Frank said, slowly removing his sunglasses, “I’m gonna have to take them off, but no one will care, ok?”  
Gerard sat frozen, staring into his demon-like eyes, “F-Frankie?”  
“Mmmhmm?” Frank smirked and buried his hands in Gerard’s hair, pulling their faces close. He caressed Gerard’s face gently, making sure not to aggravate his black eye. Gerard wanted to turn away, not knowing how such close proximity to his swollen face wasn’t repulsive.  
“N-no,” Gerard said, losing his previous confidence when he saw how intimate Frank was getting, “You don’t understand; I can’t-”  
“It’s okay, Gerard,” Frank purred, “You don’t have to be nervous. The other guys are barely conscious by now, they’re in a trance.”  
“No, that’s not what I meant, I-”  
He was interrupted when Frank pulled him closer, pressing their lips together. Gerard’s eyes - the good one anyway - shot open in anticipation of either pain or nausea. He wanted to pull away, but he couldn’t. Then he found that instead of an unpleasant feeling, he felt the same pleasure evoked from performing the Filling of the Cup. The moment their lips touched like the blood falling into the chalice, but amplified by a hundred. Gerard was so lost in the kiss, he swore he heard himself moan - or maybe that was Frank? Either way, he was too preoccupied to care. He felt Frank pull his arms around his waist, and he pulled Frank toward him, wanting their bodies to be as close as possible.  
Frank pulled away briefly and used his right hand to hold Gerard’s. He pressed their palms together and Gerard felt a sharp pain where his mark was. His vision was then flooded with a silvery light and the sensation returned, prompting Frank to kiss him again. After a while, the feeling died down and Frank pulled away for good, slowly dismounting and putting his shirt and hoodie back on.  
Gerard sat panting on the altar, not knowing what to do with himself now that the ritual was over. He quickly retrieved his sunglasses and shoved them back on. The guys were slowly leaving their trance, and the room dimmed as the lights in their eyes died down and the chanting came to a halt. A few of them chuckled at Gerard’s bewildered expression, but they soon began to disperse and go back to their usual activities.  
Frank laughed and sat down beside him, “See? Wasn’t that bad, was it?”  
“Uhh…So what exactly just happened?”  
Frank giggled again and pointed at Gerard’s hand, “I just sealed your mark. If you look at your hand, it should be black now, like mine. That’s why the ritual is called, The Black Kiss.”  
Gerard looked at his right hand and found that the snake had darkened from red to black, and was beginning to look raised off his skin.  
“It’ll begin to grow soon,” Frank explained, “And then it’ll wrap all the way around until it goes back on itself.”  
“Cool,” Gerard said, studying his hand intently. He could feel Frank staring at him through his peripheral vision, and he blushed, “What?”  
“Nothing,” Frank shrugged, “You’re just...you’re really cute.”  
Gerard reddened even more, “No I’m not!”  
“That was your first kiss, wasn’t it?”  
“I-” Gerard sighed, “I mean yeah, but...wait, was it obvious?”  
“Well you were really out of breath.”  
“Oh,” Gerard replied quietly, wondering if he was being judged on his kissing skills. He tried to change the subject, “So, is it you who usually um...initiates the new recruits?”  
“If they’re hot,” Frank replied matter of factly.  
Gerard thought all the guys in the Band of Serpents Son were hot and wondered how he, being chubby, extremely awkward, and now swollen-faced, had somehow made it on Frank’s list.  
“But,” Frank continued with a sly smile, “I don’t think I’ll be ‘initiating’ any new recruits if we have any more. Kind of got my hands full right now.”   
“What do you mean?” Gerard asked.  
Frank stared at him and then rolled his eyes, “So cute, but so stupid.”  
“What? Oh!...Oh,” Gerard couldn’t stop himself from grinning when he caught Frank’s meaning. He guessed it was only natural for Frank to ask him to go steady through suggestive flirting.   
“There you go.”  
Gerard smiled, feeling happy - and guilty for his happiness - that Frank wouldn’t be kissing anyone else, even if it was just for the sake of a ritual.  
“Wait a minute,” he said, “Who performed the Black Kiss on you when you joined?”  
“Oh,” Frank shrugged, “There weren’t many of us back then. Ray did it.”  
Gerard raised his eyebrows.  
“But don’t worry,” Frank laughed, “We were pretty young and he didn’t want to freak me out. I mean, I wouldn’t have minded, but he’s a total dad. It was just on the cheek.”  
“The ritual can be done with just the cheek?”  
“Yeah,” Frank grinned, “But where’s the fun in that, right?”  
“Hey, Gerard!” Ray walked up to them, holding a lump of black fabric in his hands.  
“Hey, Ray.”  
“This is for you,” he held out the material with a huge smile, “Everyone gets one when they join, but the novelty wears out, so only a few people actually wear them every day. I still think you should get one, though.”  
“Wow, thanks!” Gerard took the fabric and held it up. It unfolded and revealed itself to be a black hoodie like the one Frank had. Gerard looked closer and noticed a white circle around the circumference of the cuff on the right sleeve - it was snake swallowing it’s tail.  
“No problem,” Ray said, “Frank has the same one, you know. He’s the only one of us who never takes the thing off. It’s like a kid with his blankie”  
“Shut up,” Frank said grumpily.  
Gerard turned and looked at Frank’s sweater, “I’ve never noticed the snake before.”  
“Well mine is red,” Frank explained, “So it’s harder to see against the black.” He held up his wrist so that Gerard could inspect it.  
“Wow, everything about this is so cool,” Gerard said, bewildered.  
Ray and Frank both laughed at his excitement, and he tied the sweater around his waist.  
Gerard stayed for a while longer, allowing Frank to pull him into the dancing crowd, and this time, when Frank got close, he didn’t have to pull away. Their dancing was cut short when Gerard glanced at his watch and realized that he would have to leave soon if he didn’t want to get caught again.  
When Gerard got home, he went straight up to his room and stuffed the sweater into his closet so that he could make it look as if he bought it later on. His mother came to check on him, and instead of seeing a pouting, angry child as expected, she saw her son happily reading a book on his bed. She smiled, thinking her son had forgiven her for the events of last week, and that he was finally over all his weird behaviour.  
She was wrong, of course. The anger was still there, and his appetite and sleep habits would only continue to worsen, but even confined in his prison, Gerard could daydream about his secret group he could escape to every Friday. He could think longingly about the rebellious boy with tattoos and glowing red eyes, and for once in a very long time, Gerard felt what it was like to be free.


	11. Thank You for the Venom XI: A Pretty Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Wednesday...

Thank You for the Venom XI: A Pretty Face 

As Wednesday drew near, Gerard devised a plan. It wasn’t a very good one, but it was the best he could come up with considering his current situation. When he met with Dr. Solomon, he wouldn’t put up a fight; he would play his part. He decided that every Wednesday, he would be as cooperative and obedient as possible, perhaps even to the point where the doctor would think his therapy had worked. If that failed, he at least didn’t want to give Solomon the satisfaction of seeing him weep and beg. On Fridays he would go to the Band of the Serpent’s Son and engage in their rituals. He had no idea how his so called powers would work or what they even were, but if they ever became potent enough, maybe...he thought, maybe he could use them to get out of his situation. He had no idea how, or if that day would ever come, but for now, this was the best he could come up with.  
He had already come up with a cover for the new sweater Ray had given him - he bought it at a thrift shop. Even though it was summer, the deal was so good, he couldn’t pass it up. It would be better to buy it now than when sweaters came back in demand in the fall and prices rose again. He doubted his parents would dig so deep into his lie, but just to be safe, he chose a thrift store because they wouldn’t expect to find another of the same item.  
On Wednesday, he drove in silence with his mother again, who occasionally tried to make eye contact with him through the mirror. She constantly looked concerned, and with good reason. In the past days, Gerard barely slept or ate. He wanted to stop taking the meds Solomon had given him, but his father walked in every morning to make sure he took the prescribed two a day. Gerard’s eyes were constantly red (the black eye, though beginning to go down still didn’t help his image), and his eyelids fluttered as he fought to stay awake during the day. He ate to please his mother, but nine out of ten times, the food would come right back up. Refusing to believe that the medication had anything to do with it, she had pegged the blame on his depression, which only led her to encourage his visits with Solomon. He grew more sullen and secretive each day, communicating with mumbles and nodding or shaking his head. She rarely chastised him, but as the car came to a halt in the parking space, she decided to bring it up.  
“Gerard,” she said, her voice stopping him as he went to open the door, “Before you leave, we need to talk about something.”  
Gerard scowled and leaned back into his seat, his silence a prompt for her to continue.  
“You’ve...changed a lot since the beginning of the summer. You were always quiet, but...well, now you barely ever talk to us.”  
Gerard looked out the window.  
“Gerard!” His mother pleaded, “I’m talking to you, why don’t you answer me?”  
Gerard took a deep breath and tried to think of a response that wouldn’t earn him a lecture. Then he thought, fuck it. The longer I’m in here, the less time I’m in Solomon’s office.  
“I don’t talk because I have nothing to say that you’d want to hear.”  
“What?” His mother exclaimed, tightening her grip on the steering wheel, though the car was parked, “Do you think your father and I don’t care about your opinions?”  
“...should I tell you the truth, or what you want to hear?”  
“The truth! Gerard, I don’t want you to lie to me! You know you can tell me anything!”  
Gerard laughed. He couldn’t help it. It wasn’t meant to be a mocking laugh - it wasn’t as if he had done it on purpose to hurt her feelings. It just came out, because the prospect of what she was saying was so depressingly funny that the bitter chuckle just came out.  
“I told you,” Gerard said after catching his breath, “about Frank. And look what happened.” He gestured to his swollen eye.  
“That...that was different, Gerard. We were worried about you. You could have been hurt-” His mother realized the irony of her words too late.  
“Really?” Gerard asked sardonically and out of character. He was usually polite to his mother, but at this point he was pushed to the edge, and what was more - she wasn’t his father; she was too much of a coward herself to do anything to him, “Well isn’t it great that you stopped anything from happening to me! I’m so glad I have a family that cares so much about my well-being.”  
“Gerard, please,” his mother was beginning to tear up, “Your father was...he got out of control, you know he’s not usually like that.”  
“That’s what you always say,” Gerard replied darkly, “What’s your excuse gonna be when our next ‘disagreement’ ends up with me in the hospital?”  
“I-” his mother began to cry, hunching over and sobbing deeply, “Gerard, I’m sorry, alright? Is that what you wanted to hear? I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to stand up to your father, but I’m still looking out for you!”  
“How?” Gerard yelled, giving up on staying civil, “How can you look out for me when you’re too busy cowering in fear?”  
“Frank was trouble!” She said, trying to redeem herself, “It was wrong of me to let the two of you hand out in the first place-”  
“FRANK WAS THE ONLY PERSON WHO EVER UNDERSTOOD ME!” Gerard began crying himself, angrily wiping away the tears, “and you! You pushed him away!” Even though he could still see Frank on Friday’s, he didn’t want his mother to know that. He wanted her guilt to match his pain. His cruelty frightened him, but he couldn’t stop, “Frank doesn’t even come to youth group anymore! I can’t see him and...and-” These were white lies, but Gerard needed them to fuel his anger.Yes, he saw Frank, but having one friend and seeing them as often as he saw Dr. Solomon wasn’t enough. “It’s your fault!” Gerard summed up, released all his pent up anger on his mother, “It’s your fault, and that’s why I don’t tell you anything! Because it doesn’t matter how much you care about me; you still won’t care enough to actually help me.”  
Gerard’s mother stared at him in shock as he panted angrily, the rage having taken the air out of him. For a while, he thought she would begin sobbing again, but he was wrong. Her expression hardened.  
“Get out,” she said quietly.  
“...what?”  
“I said get out!” She yelled, lunging toward him and causing him to flinch in anticipation for a slap that never came. She sneered at his fear and turned her own shame into anger, “You’re just as much a coward as I am! How...how dare you be so ungrateful to me? I do so much for you and because I’m not perfect, you think you can-” the tears returned and she turned away, taking deep breaths. “Just get out of my car. I’ll see you when the session’s over.”  
Gerard quickly got out of the car and made sure to slam the door. She drove off without a word, and he walked to Solomon’s office wiping tears from his face. It was a lot easier for him to give the cold shoulder than for him to receive it. Gerard sensed he had lost an ally - his mother had at least tried to stand up for him, now he wasn’t so sure. Poking at her faults and insecurities probably wasn’t the best course of action. He convinced himself that he didn’t care - if he wanted to stop being hurt, he’d have to take away people’s ability to hurt him. If alienating his mother meant he’d hurt less from her disapproval, then so be it. He wiped his tears, ignoring the burning sensation in his eyes. If his plan was to work, he’d need to block out everyone - everyone except Frank and the group members. If Solomon had the power to hurt him, Gerard at least wanted to take away the satisfaction from it - and that meant showing as little emotion as possible.  
He walked into the office stone faced. The nurse silently led him to the same room as before, where he would begin his third week of shock therapy. Solomon was adjusting dials on the control panel when Gerard walked in. He noted his appearance immediately.  
“Gerard,” he greeted coldly, “You look horrible.”  
“Thanks,” Gerard replied dryly, and silently walked over to the chair.  
“Hmm,” Solomon stood up and placed his hands on his hips, “You seem...more peaceful than last week.”  
Gerard shuddered at the memory. His second session of shock therapy was even worse than the first, and had resulted in the twitching of his eye. Solomon took note of that as well.  
“I assume that twitching is a result of the treatment?”  
Gerard nodded.  
Solomon opened his mouth and put his teeth together - the action of smiling seemed to come unnaturally to him, like it was an action he had to manually undertake, “Well, no worries. That’s simply a side effect. Small payment for the cure to your illness.”  
It took all the strength in Gerard’s body - which, at the moment, wasn’t much - to keep himself from giving an angry response to that last statement.  
Solomon saw that he wasn’t getting a rise out of him and finally gestured to the chair, “Well now that you’re not putting up such a dreadful fuss, we can get things going a lot more smoothly. Please sit.” There was a strange mix of satisfaction yet annoyance at Gerard’s obedience in the doctor’s eyes.  
Gerard slowly sat down, removed his shirt, and allowed himself to be strapped into the chair. His stomach began to churn and his heart rate sped up, but he forced himself to remain calm. The electrodes were attached and the screen clicked on, all while Gerard kept a straight face.  
Solomon began a line of questions similar to the ones he had posed two Wednesdays before, “Now, Gerard. Can you tell me what is happening in this picture?”  
Gerard forced the words out of his mouth, “Those men are...engaging in...ungodly acts.”  
“Good!” Solomon exclaimed, his tone of voice making it unclear whether he was happy or disappointed with the progress, “and do you ever think of these unnatural acts Gerard?”  
“...No.” Gerard felt a small shock at the back of his hands. No, that was too easy. He revised his answer after a moment of thought, “...Yes. I do. But...it’s wrong...and...this is going to fix it.”  
Solomon stared at him, and for the first time, he was caught off guard, “...You’re being surprisingly....cooperative. More so than I would expect at so early a stage in your therapy.”  
“I just…I don’t want to be this anymore. I don’t like this, but if this is what you have to do to fix me then…” Gerard trailed off, allowing his ‘confession’ to linger in the air. He hoped it would pass, but the doctor still looked suspicious.  
“It would be a shame,” Solomon warned, “For you to lie to me and act as if you’ve changed, only to have gone through all this for nothing.”  
“I’m not lying,” Gerard’s eyes flicked up and he managed to maintain steady eye contact with the doctor, “Resisting is pointless, so I might as well cooperate. Right?”  
Solomon considered this for a moment and finally nodded, “Right. You’re right. Well, I’m...glad to see how much your behaviour has improved.” The doctor gritted his teeth, perhaps regretting that he had broken this one too early.  
Gerard began to wonder if Dr. Solomon was completely sane, and if a job involving pseudoscience was the perfect place for a psychopath high-functioning enough to fit in with society. The more he considered it, the more he thought Solomon would be right at home doing Nazi eugenics experiments. His thoughts were cut short by a sharp shock to both his hands and stomach.  
He flinched and grit his teeth, this time only allowing a low and quick grunt to escape his lips. The therapy continued, and the pictures progressed, every few moments, Gerard would receive a stronger and stronger shock. Each time, he managed to internalize his cry of pain.  
Then Solomon turned to the control panel and adjusted a dial. Gerard closed his eyes, allowing himself a brief moment of respite before what he knew would come next. He forgot the punishment for looking away from the screen, and Solomon slapped him.  
Gerard took deep breaths, training his eyes on the screen, slowing his breathing and blinking away the tears that kept forming.  
The shock came to his temples - and it was bearable. It was one continuous stream of electricity, but it was more like a nuisance than anything else. Gerard quickly flicked his eyes over to Solomon and saw that he was slowly adjusting the dial. The pain grew and the volume of the buzzing electricity increased. Slowly, Gerard started shaking as the annoying sensation became pain. He gripped the armrests of the chair, gritting his teeth and occasionally grunting in pain as spittle formed at his lips. Solomon’s glare intensified and he continued to adjust the dial until Gerard lost control and the tears began to stream down.  
“You see, Gerard,” Solomon said, not taking his hand off the dial, “I don’t know if you’re lying to me. I don’t know if you’ve really changed, or whatever you want me to believe. Either way, you’re not getting out that easily.”  
Gerard leaned his head back against the headrest as the shock intensified. His jaw ached from clenching his teeth together and eventually he lost his strength and gave up. He allowed his cry of pain to escape, but he didn’t beg for Solomon to stop. He refused to grovel and admit his weakness when it was already so apparent. At the sight of Gerard’s defeat, Solomon relented and turned off the machine and removed the electrodes.  
Gerard stared up at the images on the screen one last time before Solomon switched it off. Despite being drenched in sweat and tears, he felt a little pang of triumph. Something had happened to him at the Band of Serpent’s Son when Frank had kissed him. The erotic images Solomon showed him were just that - images, and the pain he associated with them was no longer connected to Frank. He didn’t know exactly what he had experienced with Frank, but it was different - it was real, not some laboratory concoction.  
Solomon left the room, allowing Gerard the usual cool-down period necessary to relieve suspicion from his mother. The twitching in his eye came back, much more vigorous than it had been before. Despite the discomfort, he allowed himself to revel in his small victory, smiling bitterly in triumph. He tried to ignore the fact that he would have to return to this place the next Wednesday, and the one after that, and the one after that, and the one after….  
He closed his eyes and tried to think of something positive again.  
Frank.  
You’ll see Frank again on Friday, he told himself. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that Friday was only two days away. Just two more days, he thought, as the headache and exhaustion that usually accompanied his therapies made its appearance.  
Two more days.  
His eyes fluttered as he began to nod off.  
Just two more.... 

The ride home with his mother was even colder after their argument before the session. Usually, the silence was Gerard’s choice - his mother would attempt conversation and he’d give short, vague answers, eventually leading her to give up. This time, she didn’t initiate a conversation. She didn’t even acknowledge him when he got in the car.  
Gerard began to notice on the drive home that the skin on the back of his hands was red and inflamed. He felt the same stinging sensation on his stomach and the sides of his forehead, and when he looked in the rearview mirror, he saw the bright, angry patches. His mother said nothing.  
When they got home, he immediately got out of the car and rushed into the house, attempting to get to his room as soon as possible. Michelle was walking from the living room at the same time, and the two nearly collided.  
“Whoa, Gerard, be carefu-” she stopped suddenly when she saw his burns, “What...what happened?”  
“Nothing,” Gerard mumbled quickly.  
Their mother entered the house a second later and Michelle turned to her questioningly, “Mom, what happened to Gerard?”  
Their mother looked at Michelle, then at Gerard, then back at Michelle. Then at the floor. Then she walked away.  
“Mom!” Michelle cried. She stomped her foot in frustration, “What is going on? No one tells me anything anymore, and you guys barely talk to each other!” She turned to Gerard, her face full of concern, “Gerard, please, tell me what’s happening. Are you okay?”  
Gerard made eye contact with his sister and considered telling her what was going on, but she was too innocent for the world around her. What’s more, she wouldn’t understand. She couldn't comprehend Gerard’s need to rebel, and part of him hoped she never would. He hoped she could stay just another pretty face - naive, oblivious and perfect, because being otherwise would mean she might end up like him. This was also the reason he had to keep his distance from her, so he decided that no, he wouldn’t tell Michelle anything.  
“Nothing,” he said, lying to her like all the adults in her life did, “Everything’s fine.”  
“Are you sure?” She asked, though it was obvious she didn’t believe him.  
“Yeah,” Gerard said half-heartedly as he began to trudge up the stairs, “I promise.”


	12. Thank You for the Venom XII: I Wear This On My Sleeve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray continues to be a nerd. Frank and Gerard do WITCHY THINGSSSSS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jormungand pronunciation: YOR-mun-gand  
> (I am very sensitive when it comes to mythology names. If you anglicize the "J", I will punch you through the screen.)

Thank You for the Venom XII: I Wear This On My Sleeve

On Friday morning, Gerard nearly bolted out of bed - he had slept soundly that night, the first time in a while, and he couldn’t wait to see Frank again. He practically skipped to the bathroom to brush his teeth, happily humming as the brush frothed the toothpaste around his mouth. His happiness was interrupted when his father opened the bathroom door without knocking. He held the yellowish cylinder containing Gerard’s pills in his hands.  
“Take your meds,” he said simply.  
The excited grin disappeared from Gerard’s face. He spat out the toothpaste, rinsed his mouth, and took the pill.  
“Oh,” his father grumbled before walking away, “breakfast is on the table.”  
Gerard sighed and glared moodily into the mirror. Every time he looked into a reflective surface, he was slightly frightened by what he saw. His black eye was healing, but his eyes were still red and a permanent scowl remained on his face. His expressions didn’t match his chubby face, and for the most part he just looked like an angry child. It would have made him laugh if he wasn’t in constant pain, emotional or otherwise. What’s more, his recent behaviour scared him worse. His mother barely made an effort to speak to him after their fight on Wednesday, and he had always distanced himself from Michelle. He now had no one in the house to talk to, and they all saw him as a miscreant.  
Gerard trudged down the stairs, his happy morning ruined. He noticed as soon as he walked into the kitchen that his family was fully dressed, while he was still in his plaid pajama shorts, over-sized Plains of Mars t-shirt and the sweater Ray had given him. His black hair was disheveled and some still stuck to his face.  
“Good morning, Gerard,” Michelle said, sitting up straight when she saw him. She tried for a smile, but no one returned it.  
His mother and father grumbled good mornings as he sat down unceremoniously beside Michelle and began piling his plate with toast and fruits that would no doubt make a return the next time he went to the bathroom.   
“Ugh,” his mother scoffed when she saw his hoodie, “Gerard, what are you wearing?”  
“This is the sweater I bought, remember?”  
“I didn’t realize how much it made you look like a…”  
“Hoodlum?” Gerard finished with a raised eyebrow.  
His mother frowned at him but said nothing more. His father, however, was glad to continue the conversation.  
“Why did you buy it if you know how it makes you look?”  
“Dad, it’s just a sweater.”  
“I thought you were trying to lose weight,” his father continued, “not trying to look pregnant.”  
Gerard clenched his toast and crumbs flicked across his plate.  
“Father,” Michelle chided, “Don’t be mean to Gerard.”  
“Oh, I’m just trying to help him, sweetheart. He’s already too soft for us to keep babying him.”  
Gerard wondered how shock therapy, a punch in the face, and constant surveillance could be considered babying, but he didn’t say anything more.   
He reached across the table for a handful of grapes when his sister gasped, “Gerard, what happened to your hand?”  
Gerard froze and quickly drew his hand back to his plate. He began to think of an excuse, realizing too late how stupid it was for him to keep a mark that would only continue to grow out in the open. The snake’s head had now extended to where the inner part of his thumb met his index finger. It would only be a matter of time before it completely wrapped around to meet the tail back where it began.   
“...Oh!” he had hesitated too long, but he hoped his excuse would suffice, “I uh...I sliced my hand the other day when I was um...chopping...apples.”  
“...Apples?” His mother questioned after sipping her tea.  
“What?” Michelle exclaimed, “There’s no way that’s a cut, that looks more like a tatt-”  
“BUT UM, YEAH,” Gerard interrupted, hoping he had been loud enough to drown out the tail end of his sister’s speech, “It’s getting pretty dark and I think it might be infected. I’ll drop over by the pharmacy to get something for it later today.”  
His parents shrugged, not all too concerned that he had hurt himself while slicing fruit. His sister, on the other hand, eyed him suspiciously but didn’t finish her earlier accusation. Gerard sipped at his coffee nervously and made a mental note to keep an eye on Michelle. It was only a matter of time before she became yet another problem in his life.

Frank was waiting for Gerard by the Band of the Serpent’s Son, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the wall. When Gerard arrived, he was wearing fingerless gloves and his new sweater tied around his waist.   
“Hey, Gee,” Frank called teasingly as Gerard neared.  
“Hey, Frankie,” Gerard replied with a giggle.  
“What’s up with the new look?” Frank asked, flicking the cigarette to the ground and putting it out.  
“Oh,” Gerard said, “I got these gloves ‘cause my family noticed the mark.”  
“Oh God,” Frank moaned, “and how does your mother feel about the gloves?”  
“She hates ‘em,” Gerard replied matter of factly, “But they cover the mark, so they’re not going anywhere.”  
“Plus, they match mine,” Frank smiled, making cheesy jazz hands. “I see you’ve got your sweater on...well, sort of anyway.”  
“I dunno, I thought…” Gerard blushed, “I look kinda fat when I wear big sweaters, but I still wanted to wear it.”  
Frank frowned, “You’re not fat, Gerard.”  
Gerard laughed nervously and out of habit, put an arm over his stomach, “Yeah, well, my dad seems to think I am.”  
“Yeah, well your Dad can suck my left nut. He’s a fuckin idiot.” Frank wondered if he had gone too far with referencing family again and quickly apologized, “Sorry. I just...it makes me so mad how he treats you.”  
“It’s fine,” Gerard assured, “I mean, before he punched me, I got a pretty good shove in first. I didn’t know I was that strong; he practically flew across the room.”  
Frank grinned, “That’s my boy.”  
Gerard blushed and tried to change the subject, not knowing how to react to being called Frank’s ‘boy,’ “Anyway, it’s hot as hell. I can’t be going around in a hot ass sweater all the time. How do you manage it?”  
Frank grinned, “You’re just a drama queen.”  
“Well maybe ‘cause you’re so small, you don’t have as much body heat,” Gerard teased.  
“Trust me,” Frank stuck a finger in Gerard’s direction, “I’m not small where it counts.”  
“FRank!” Gerard didn’t know whether to laugh or feel embarrassed - he did both.  
“And I actually do have quite a lot of body heat,” Frank smirked, “you can find out first hand.”  
This time, Gerard was definitely more flustered than amused and turned beet red, “I...Frank-”  
Frank’s eyes widened as he realized what Gerard had inferred “Oh my GOD, Gerard, that’s not what I meant!”  
“What?”  
“I meant I was gonna show you how my powers work, Jesus Christ,” Frank walked into the house, leaving a mortified Gerard to follow after him.  
Gerard nearly collided with Bob on his way in. The two of them stared each other down for a brief second before Bob spoke first.  
“So Frank’s boyfriend is back, huh?”  
“I’m...mmm…” Gerard’s mumbling trailed off as he didn’t really know if he could call Frank his boyfriend.  
“What?” Bob crossed his arms with a smirk, “When you took off your sunglasses, did the tough-guy act leave as well?”  
Gerard struggled to think of a response, but Frank cut in, “Look at his eye, ya dildo.”  
“Oh,” Bob seemed almost apologetic for a second, “...What happened?”  
“He got into a fight,” Frank said, not giving Gerard a chance to speak for himself, “and the guy who went up against him came away much worse than he did. So maybe you wanna watch your act around him, right?”  
Frank pulled Gerard away but continued to make faces at Bob as they walked towards the fireplace. They met Ray in his usual spot.  
“Gerard,” Ray said happily, “It’s good to see you! Are...are you okay?”  
“Wh...oh,” Gerard said, remembering that he was no longer wearing his sunglasses, “Yeah, it’s healing up. I’m fine.”  
“You sure?” Ray asked with a smile, “Don’t want me to go start a little earthquake under the house of whoever did that to you?”  
“Well you’d be destroying my house, so I’m gonna have to pass.”  
Ray’s smile disappeared as he caught Gerard’s meaning, “Oh...Gerard, I’m sorry-”  
“It’s fine,” Gerard said quickly, “So Frank said something about showing me his powers…?”  
“I want you to give him the explanation first,” Frank filled in.  
“Ah!” Ray quickly got up from the couch, went to one of the large wardrobes and returned with yet another ancient looking book. He sat in the middle of the couch and beckoned Gerard and Frank to sit on either side.  
The front of the dusty brown volume was decorated with the iconic snake swallowing its tail, and around it were the symbols Gerard had seen tattooed on Frank’s hands and written on the paper he had given him.  
“This symbol,” Ray began to explain, “is an ouroboros, or the snake devouring itself. In many cultures and schools of thought, it represents wholeness or a sense of infinity.”  
Frank rolled his eyes, “Alright, professor. Gerard didn’t come here for a history lesson.”  
Ray looked offended and almost pouted, “But...you asked me to explain, and this is interesting!”  
Gerard nodded his head, “Yeah, it’s okay, Frank. It sounds cool.”  
Frank shook his head, “Great, so my best friend and boyfriend are huge fucking nerds.”  
Gerard blushed again at being referred to as Frank’s boyfriend. Ray simply smiled and continued his explanation, “So anyway, the particular culture we focus on is Norse culture and its mythology. Any markings or scripts you may have seen associated with the ouroboros and our group are Norse runes. The snake is the World Serpent, or Jormungand from Norse mythology. As the story goes, he was rejected and cast out into the sea, where he eventually grew so large that he wrapped around the entire earth’s ocean floor and could grab his own tail with his mouth.”  
“Whoa,” Gerard said.  
“Am I going too fast?” Ray asked.  
“No, this is just…a lot to take in, I guess. So...you guys like...believe in...Norse mythology?” Gerard tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to offend them.  
Ray chuckled, “I’m not much of an authority to say which religion or set of myths is entirely correct. But I do know that at least parts of Norse myths are based in reality.”  
“How?”  
“Because,” Frank said, “Jormungand is where we evoke our powers from.”  
Ray nodded, “The rituals we perform in his name have given us the ability to manipulate nature and reality - in other words, magic.” Ray flipped to the first page of the book, which was an illuminated manuscript with an exaggerated drawing of Jormungand on it. In this image, he actually circled the outside of the world, which had been clearly drawn at a time when the entire earth had not yet been discovered. Each corner of the page had a differently marked and oriented triangle, which were reflected and shone the colours: red, green, silver, and blue.  
“Since Jormungand encircles the earth,” Ray continued, “He is connected to the natural powers that can be found in it. In other words, the elements. But not the kind you learn about in chemistry class. I mean the classical elements - we have access to four of them, but the Ancient Greeks thought that there was a fifth-”  
“Hey,” Frank said, rolling his eyes, “I’m sure what the Ancient Greeks thought was interesting, but can we hurry this up?”  
Ray sighed and tried to speak faster, “Basically, each of us is linked to a certain element when we participate in our first ritual. This link happens based on your personality, behaviour, and innermost thoughts. The fifth element can only be obtained when our final ritual is carried out and the Drinker of the Cup consumes the blood we’ve been contributing our power to over the years.”  
“Years?” Gerard asked.  
“Yes. A few drops from two dozen guys every once a week takes a while to make an impact. It’s absolutely imperative that nothing happens to the chalice and that no one drinks it before the final ritual. At that time, the Drinker will be bestowed with the fifth element and have the power to summon Jormungand. And that’s where the cleansing begins.”  
“Whoa,” Gerard said again, trying to consume all the information that had just been thrown at him, “So...who’s the Drinker, or whatever?”  
Ray answered after giving Frank a brief glance, “Well...we don’t really know yet. We have another ritual for deciding that when the time comes. The Drinker is basically like...the Jesus figure of the group. If you’ll excuse the irony. When he inherits the fifth element, he’ll be the closest link to Jormungand, symbolically making him his son, hence the name.”  
“Wow,” Gerard said in awe, “This is all so cool! I mean it’s still scary as hell. But in a cool way.”  
Frank and Ray laughed at his wonder, and Ray made a point of ruffling his hair and noting again how adorable he was.  
“So,” Frank summed up, “Our powers are linked to who we are.”  
“I’m linked to the Earth, as you’ve already seen,” Ray explained, “It’s a symbol of stability and protection. It’s fitting, considering I’m basically the parent of everyone here.”  
“You’re such a mom,” Frank laughed, “I can control fire, you know…’cause I’m so hot.”  
“Hot-headed, more like,” Ray said, “Frank can control fire because like fire, he can be very destructive when given the means.”  
“I resent that!” Frank interjected, mocking offence with his hands on his hips.  
“The guys whose eyes glow blue,” Ray continued, “they have water powers. Water doesn’t usually seem like much of a threat, but concentrated, it can do a lot of damage.” He nodded his head to the door, where Bob was still on his shift as guard, “Bob’s one of the water guys.”  
“Yeah,” Frank muttered, “you’d expect him to be more easy going.”  
“Simmer down, Frank,” Ray scolded, “Anyway, as you may have noticed, your colour is silver. That means your link is with air and wind.”  
Gerard smiled in excitement, “Really? That’s so cool! What does that mean? Like about my personality?”  
Ray laughed, “Gerard, I’m not a horoscope-”  
“Just tell me!”  
“Well, the air is boundless and flows wherever it wants. If you were given a link to air, you’re probably attracted to the concept of freedom without restraints.”  
Gerard’s smile shrunk a bit, “Oh...I mean...yeah, that makes sense.”  
Ray frowned, “What? Are you okay?”  
Gerard nodded and forced the smile to return, “Yeah! I’m fine. So uh, when do I learn how to use my cool wind powers?”  
“Right now!” Frank said, “Come on, let’s go outside, I feel like I just sat through a school lecture.”   
Ray shook his head as the two went back outside, “Hey, be careful out there! We don’t want a repeat of what happened last time!”  
“What happened last time?” Gerard asked as Frank pulled him out the door.  
“Oh,” Frank said casually, “Well you see how there’s a burnt ring around the house?” He gestured to where they now stood.  
“Yeah?”  
Frank pointed his thumbs at his chest and smiled proudly, “That was me.”  
Gerard sighed and rolled his eyes, “Of course it was you. Wait, how did you manage not to burn the house down?”  
“Well geez, Gerard, I’m not a savage.”  
“That doesn’t-”  
“Okie dokie, it’s time for you to see how fucking great I am.”  
“And humble too.”  
Frank laughed and rolled up the sleeves of his sweater, “This is the reason why I can wear three layers of clothing during a heat wave.”  
Frank stood with his feet shoulder-width apart. His hands were at his sides and he slowly began to tighten his fingers until he looked as if he was trying to make claws with them. He took a deep breath and lifted his right hand so that it was facing upwards and level to his chest. A dull, red glow began to come from his palm, and Gerard could tell that his mark was glowing. Soon, his eyes began to glow as well, and the scary - yet oddly attractive - demon look returned. He leant his head down to his glowing hand and carefully blew into it, as if starting a campfire. Then suddenly, he clenched his fist completely and drove it up into the air with a pained grimace. He opened his fist and a pillar of dark red flames shot into the sky. Frank cried out in pain when the fire was first released, and Gerard wanted to come to his side and see what was wrong, but the fire was so hot, he felt at danger just standing a couple feet away.  
As the shot of flames continued, they burned brighter along with Frank’s eyes, and he let out another yell.  
“Frank!” Gerard cried over the deep sound of the fire, “Are you okay?”  
Frank finally faltered and his hand twitched, resulting in the flames beginning to die down. He slowly lowered his hand as the flames died down, nearly falling to the ground when they had.  
Gerard rushed to his side and helped him stand, “Frank!”  
“Hey, I’m alright,” Frank laughed when he regained his bearings, “I sometimes get a little dizzy when I use that much power.”  
“How much do you usually use?”  
“Um...not that much.”  
“Well then why would you do that?” Gerard asked, “I was worried something was wrong! You sounded like it hurt.”  
“Oh it does,” Frank assured, “When a shit ton of fire shoots out of a tiny point in your hand - it hurts like hell. But it’s also the most amazing thing in the world.”  
Gerard hesitated before he spoke, wondering if Frank would judge him, “Do...the wind powers hurt like that too?”  
Frank laughed, “Well I wouldn’t know for certain, but some of the wind guys have told me that it’s not painful, just...weird.”  
“....Weird how?”  
Frank shrugged, ignoring the panicked look on Gerard’s face, “I dunno, I guess you’ll find out.”  
“But...wait, hold on-”  
“Calm down, Gerard, it won’t be that bad. You won’t even be able to control a lot of air; you just joined.”  
Gerard nodded, telling himself to stop worrying, “Okay. How do I do it?”  
“Hmm…” Frank put a hand to his chin, “Well I guess I’m not the best person to be telling you how to do this, seeing as I don’t have the air link. But I’ve seen others do it and it’s only a little different. I...I don’t know how to explain it. You just gotta...feel it.”  
“Well thanks,” Gerard rolled his eyes, “That was very helpful.”  
“Hey, I didn’t have anyone around to tell me how everything worked! Just Ray, and we were both figuring this shit out at the same time.”  
Gerard decided to start by mimicking Frank’s movement - feet shoulder-length apart, hands at his sides. He tried to clench his fists the way Frank had, but nothing happened. He continued to try different sharp movements, wondering when the next one would result in something happening.  
“Uhh…” Frank cut in, trying not to laugh at what looked like an interpretive dance, “I think you’re doing it wrong.”  
“But I’m doing what you did!” Gerard stomped his foot and almost whined his words. He had been so excited to use some kind of magic power that the inability to do so made him extremely disappointed.  
“Exactly,” Frank said, “But I have fire powers - you don’t. We move and think in different ways; we have completely different powers. If you’re going to harness the wind, you have to be less...aggressive. Just try to...I don’t know, flow with it.”  
“Alright,” Gerard said under his breath, “flow with the wind, I can do that.” He loosened up his tensed muscles and allowed his hands to rest limp at his sides. He took a deep breath as a soft gust of wind blew through the forest, ruffling his hair. He closed his eyes and continued to take deep breaths, unaware of how intently Frank was staring at him.  
Gerard began to feel an odd sensation in his right hand - the head of the snake. He slowly lifted it to chest-height as Frank had done, but continued to keep his muscles relaxed. He opened his eyes and the world was bathed in the same silvery light from the previous rituals, but there was nothing sexual about how he felt. In that moment, he just felt...free.  
Gerard looked down at his hand and saw little trails of silvery mist swirling around. He realized that the odd sensation was what almost seemed like a tickle or itch where the snake’s head was. It felt as if air was being let out of him - like he was a balloon slowly being deflated through a tiny hole. The sensation grew from annoying to almost sickening, but he never felt fully deflated. It was as if he had an endless supply of air, and the notion of so much power was far greater than the odd feeling in his hand. He began to understand why Frank could endure pain in order to use his power.   
The silvery light continued to glow brighter and the swirls became faster and larger, until he needed to use both hands to contain them. The air had other ideas however, and refused to be contained. It shot straight forward, hitting Frank square in the chest and knocking him to the ground.  
“Whoa!” He cried out, his limbs flailing upwards as he fell with a thud.   
Immediately, the silver light faded away and Gerard’s panic replaced it. “Frank?” He called out, running to help him up, “are you ok?”  
At first, it looked like Frank was crying - his shoulders shook as he silently stood and brushed himself off, but then Gerard saw the huge grin on his face - he was laughing.  
“That was great!” He said excitedly, “I mean...you were amazing! I’ve never seen a new recruit learn so quickly!”  
“But-” Gerard scratched his head in embarrassment, “I kinda lost control and knocked you over.”  
“Yeah, and most people can barely make a gust on their first try! And you weren’t even tired afterwards!”  
Gerard paused and realized that instead of feeling disoriented like Frank had been, he felt energized, and for once in a very long time, he actually felt proud of himself.  
Gerard found himself giggling, “I guess that was pretty cool.”  
“That was fantastic!” Frank insisted, refusing to let Gerard understate his abilities, “Ray’s gonna be so happy when he finds out how quickly you got it!”  
“Let’s go inside and tell him!”   
“Wait a minute,” Frank suddenly became serious and he grabbed Gerard’s wrist, staring at his watch, “What time is it?”  
“Aww,” Gerard whined, “Do I have to leave now?”  
“If you don’t wanna get in trouble, then yes. And I don’t want you to get in trouble, so you’re going.”  
Gerard pouted, “Fine, I guess I’ll see you next week.”  
Frank rolled his eyes, but didn’t let him leave yet, “But before you go, I have something I need to give you.”  
“Hmm?” Gerard asked, expecting it to be a surprise present. He hated when people gave him gifts out of the blue because it made him feel inexplicably guilty. He winced in preparation.  
Frank reached into his sweater pocket and seemingly from nowhere pulled out a gun.  
“FRANK!” Gerard took a step back as his heart skipped a beat, “Why do you have a gun?”  
Frank smirked, “You just saw me harness fucking fire, and the gun is what scares you?”   
“How...how did you even fit that into the pocket of your sweater without it showing?”  
“Gerard, we have fucking magic, do you think we don’t know how to use it to hide shit?”  
“So…” Gerard began, “The sweaters are like...bigger on the inside?”  
“Um...yeah,” Frank said, oblivious to the sci-fi reference, “I guess that’s one way to put it.”  
Gerard tried for a smile, “‘Cause...you know...that’s the thing from...oh, nevermind.”  
Frank looked at him in confusion but insisted that he take the gun, “You might need this.”  
“For what?”  
“For protection, idiot! Did you think joining a ‘cult’ in the most religious area in America wouldn’t come with danger?”  
“Frank, I’ve never used a gun before.”  
“Well you’ve never used your powers before, but you managed to knock me to the ground; clearly you’re a fast learner.”  
“But-”  
“Listen,” Frank said, “Neither of us are planning on getting caught, but we don’t know. I may have magic, but I’m not a psychic. This is just...just in case, okay? In case something happens and you don’t want to reveal your powers, or of they’re not strong enough at the moment...I don’t know. Just...just take it, okay? I won’t be around during the week to protect you, but with this you can protect yourself.”  
Gerard tried to smile reassuringly, “Frank, you don’t need to protect me.” He realized as the words came out that nothing was further from the truth. He still slipped the gun into his sweater pocket - it seemed to disappear into nothingness, but he could still feel it when he reached his hand in.  
“You should hide it,” Frank said, “if you don’t always want to carry it around, make sure you put it somewhere no one will look.”  
Gerard nodded, though he still thought all of this was a tad over dramatic.  
“Now hurry up and get your ass out of here,” Frank grabbed Gerard’s face and pulled himself up to kiss his cheek.  
Gerard laughed at Frank’s height challenges but soon became flustered when Frank continued to hold his face and pressed their foreheads together.  
“Frank…”  
“Yeeeees?”  
Gerard took a step back and Frank’s hands fell away. He immediately put his own hands up to cover his cheeks.  
“What?” Frank asked, suddenly scared he had done something wrong again.  
“Sorry, I just...it makes me nervous when people touch my face.”  
“Why?”  
“I dunno...I have really big cheeks and it makes me feel like I’m-”  
“I swear to God, if you call yourself fat again, I will punch you. But not actually, because I don’t want to give you another black eye.”  
Gerard felt his arm automatically go to cover his stomach as it always did when his weight was mentioned. Frank stepped forward and pushed his arm away, grabbed his face again and this time, kissed him on the lips.  
“You’re not fat, Gerard. You’re fucking adorable and so are your chubby cheeks. Now get out of here before you get in trouble.”  
Gerard began to laugh and they kissed again, this time, Gerard putting his arms around Frank. They stood there for a while, not knowing what else to say, so they said nothing. Then Frank finally pushed Gerard playfully away.  
“Okay, I mean it this time. You gotta go.”  
“Okay,” Gerard said reluctantly, “See you next week.”  
“Bye!” Frank waved at him as he walked away.  
“Bye!” Gerard returned over his shoulder.  
“See you later!”  
“Okay!”  
They continued to call out to each other until they were out of earshot, neither one wanting to stop responding first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone noticed the pattern in the days I update yet?


	13. Thank You for the Venom XIII: I Keep a Gun in the Book You Gave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another week passes. Gerard finds a place to hide his gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Okay, I'm kinda ticked off, because in the time I've known this song, I swore the lyric was "I keep a gun IN the book you gave me," but apparently it's ON? Which....mmmmmm...whatever. I'm just gonna ignore that and pretend it's "in".
> 
> 2\. School's finally out for the summer so that either means I'm gonna be writing a lot...or laying around being lazy and barely writing anything. Hopefully, it's the former. 
> 
> 3\. GUESS WHO'S SIXTEEN TODAY, WOOT WOOT.

Thank You for the Venom XIII: I Keep a Gun in the Book You Gave Me 

Gerard got home from youth group that Friday happier than ever but knew his happiness would raise suspicion. The second his hand touched the handle of his front door, he plastered a scowl across his face. His father was watching a game in the living room, his mother was doing the dishes, and his sister was talking on the phone with her friend. He gave a small gesture of greeting to all of them, being sure to maintain his moody frown the entire time. Once he was in his room, he brainstormed places to hide the gun Frank had given him. He knew it was for ‘protection,’ but Gerard knew he would feel extremely anxious carrying a weapon around with him, even if it was magically concealed.  
He looked around his bedroom, but couldn’t think of anywhere his parents wouldn’t mind snooping around in. His eyes wandered to the top of the dresser and he saw the large, beautiful bible Michelle had bought him, which just sat there collecting dust. Suddenly, it presented itself as something more useful than a reminder of his lost faith. Gerard made a mental note to make a visit to the craft store to get some supplies for his new project. He now had the perfect hiding spot for Frank’s gun.

Now that Gerard had seen just how amazing Fridays could be with the Band of the Serpent’s Son, the rest of the week seemed even more boring and restricting than usual. Church on Sunday, Solomon on Wednesday, and dry mundanity in between. When he wasn’t bored out of his mind, Gerard was vomiting, having nightmares, or suffering from increasingly worse twitching and headaches. A couple minutes before leaving for the doctor’s office that Wednesday, Gerard caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and noticed something...different. It wasn’t just his puffy red eyes (the black eye was basically healed at this point) or his perpetual angry scowl. He looked...thinner. Under other circumstances, he would have been thrilled, but it seemed like he had dropped some pounds in a really short amount of time. He doubted that was healthy, but maybe his father would at least stop harassing him about it.  
The five minute drive was coldly silent again. Like last time, his mother chose the moment they parked to bring up what was on their mind.  
“Gerard,” she said. It was less of a question the way it usually was. She wasn’t asking him to stay. She was telling him to.  
He sighed, “Yes, mom?”  
His mother stared out the window, not looking him in the eye, “Why do you insist on wearing those gloves? What’s the point of wearing gloves without fingers anyway?”  
Gerard wanted to respond with one of the many snappy answers he always had mentally prepared. What’s the point of having a brain if you never use it? What’s the point of having eyes if you won’t fucking open them and see what’s happened to me? What’s the point of having a kid if you’re just going to sit there and do nothing while he suffers? He didn’t say any of these. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders.  
“I think they look cool.”  
“Well I don’t like them,” his mother said decisively, as if her opinions on them were the end-all and be-all of their worth.  
“Well lucky for me, I don’t make decisions based on what you think,” Gerard muttered.  
“Excuse me?” His mother gasped, ready for another shouting war.  
Gerard refused to play her game and continued to speak calmly, “Let’s face the facts, mom. If I based what things are worth on your opinions, I probably wouldn’t be alive today.”  
“What!?”  
“You clearly have more negative opinions of me than good ones,” Gerard had no idea where his short bursts of courage kept coming from, but he decided to use them while they lasted, “If I still cared what you think, I’d have put a bullet in my head years ago.”  
“GERARD!” His mother looked like she didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt.  
Gerard pointed his index and middle fingers in a salute and quickly exited the car before she had a chance to say anything more. He walked into the doctor’s office without turning to see her reaction. His plan to be good and obedient was proving much harder than he thought it would be - there was nothing more satisfactory than getting the last word in a disagreement and coming out with a cool head. Plus, he had a feeling Frank’s defiant attitude was beginning to rub off on him.  
The scary angular woman led him to Solomon’s office again. The first few times she had seen him, she seemed to be filled with a mix of disgust and pity. Now, thanks to his new street-urchin look, she regarded him with a look of pure disgust with a hint of guarded disdain - Gerard was getting used to that look and even enjoyed the defiant feeling it gave him. Yep, Frank was definitely rubbing off on him.  
Gerard opened the door to the usual room and was surprised by what he saw. He had expected Solomon to be at the chair, hooking it up to the control panel and prepping it for another session of torture. Instead, it was covered with the same large white tarp Gerard had seen the first time he entered the room. At the far end of the room, Dr. Solomon was turning on the wall monitor he had used for the first week of therapy.  
“...Uhh,” Gerard said in confusion, “What’s up, doc?”  
“Gerard!” Solomon greeted lifelessly, “Come in and we can begin.”  
“What about the…” Gerard’s voice trailed off and he pointed towards the chair.  
“What?” the doctor asked derisively, “You want to go back to the chair?”  
“No, I just...I don’t understand why-”  
Solomon scoffed, interrupting his sentence, “Listen, Gerard, I don’t have time to waste, so if you would please hurry up and sit down.” He gestured to the chair in front of the screen - the one Gerard had been strapped to during the first session.  
Gerard hesitated, remembering that he hadn’t eaten much for breakfast that morning; this was gonna burn like hell.  
Dr. Solomon became impatient with waiting, walked quickly over to Gerard and pulled him roughly over to the chair where he finally sat down.  
“If you’ll take a look at the back of your hands, your abdomen and forehead,” Solomon began cuffing Gerard to the chair, “You’ll notice that burns have begun to form because of the repeated stress put on the same areas. By alternating therapy strategies, we can avoid such...negative side effects.”  
Gerard wanted to tell him about his nausea, headaches, dizziness, and weight loss, and how those sucked a lot more than some red patches of skin, but he decided against it. The more he kept his mouth shut, the quicker he could be out of here - though keeping his mouth shut was beginning to be harder and harder as of late.  
The doctor walked away to a cabinet and came back with bottled water and another pill. He prepared to wrench Gerard’s head back as he had done earlier, but Gerard had already titled his head and opened his mouth, ready to comply without raising a fuss.  
Solomon looked both annoyed and satisfied at his compliance, “Well, it seems you truly are cooperating.”  
The doctor placed the pill in his throat and poured some water in, then stayed to make sure Gerard actually swallowed it. Gerard locked eyes with Solomon the entire time, refusing to appear as frightened as he usually was. Solomon nodded and gave another one of his creepily unnatural smiles, turned, shut off the lights, and left the room.  
Gerard trained his eye on the plastic bucket in between his feet and ignored the pictures on the screen. He almost smiled to himself, knowing that if he wanted to experience the images on the monitor, all he had to do was find Frank.  
He then began to try and force the vomit to come up as soon as possible. If he had to throw up, he wanted to get it over with. He clenched the armrests of the chair and began deliberately heaving, moving the muscles of his torso in a way that encouraged his stomach to spew its contents upwards.  
Finally, a surge of liquid ejected from Gerard’s mouth into the container. It was mainly bile, as all Gerard had eaten that morning was half a slice of toast and a couple blueberries. It burned, as he had predicted, like hell. He involuntarily made desperate gagging noises as his eyes began to tears up from the straining of his muscles and the bitter taste of bile.  
When it was done - when he had been emptied of everything - the nausea was still there, so he sat there continuing to gag and spit bitter masses of bile from the back of his throat. A couple more minutes passed and Gerard began to get bored. It wasn’t a sensation he ever thought he’d experience while strapped to a chair and vomiting, but now that the most unpleasant part of the session was over, there was really nothing else left to preoccupy him.  
Gerard’s eyes flicked up - for a moment - to the erotica on the screen. He immediately looked away, but there was no point in censoring what he saw. Whatever power against homosexual behaviour the medication had once had on him was gone - on the other hand, they still produced terrible nausea, headaches, and a bunch of other really annoying shit. Basically, they did everything except what they were designed to do. Gerard shook his head at the unfairness of it all - he was being forced to endure painful therapy in order to ‘fix’ him, but the only power the medication had was the negative side effects.  
Once again, his eyes began to travel back to the screen. He realized that now that the nausea was over, and without the presence of shock therapy, the rest of his session would be spent looking at gay porn - with no negative side effects. He felt extremely guilty about the smile that subsequently spread across his face, but what could he say? Frank was having a very heavy influence on him.

That Friday, Gerard got to the Band of the Serpent’s Son early so that he could spend time with Frank before the weekly Filling of the Cup started. Frank was waiting for him outside the house, and began to bounce excitedly when he saw him. He ran up to meet Gerard, and the both of them fell over when Frank tackled him with a hug.  
“Aagh!” Gerard exclaimed as they both thudded onto the ashy ground.  
Frank smiled widely and kissed him before giggling, “Hey, Gee.”  
Gerard’s back hurt, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling back, “Frankie.”  
Frank laughed and helped him get up, “Come on, we’ve got some time before the ritual starts - let’s go dance.”  
Gerard didn’t protest and allowed himself to be pulled into the group of dancing adolescents. When Frank inevitably began to grind on him, he let it happen and even participated in a little dirty dancing himself. Nearly all his previous inhibitions regarding intimacy with Frank were gone - though he did still find himself getting flustered from time to time.  
Eventually, Ray called for the ritual to begin, and the music stopped. The boys all crowded around the altar as Ray drained some of his blood into the chalice, and began to perform the ritual on others. Frank and Gerard stood shoulder to shoulder in the circle, and this time, Gerard wasn’t scared about what would happen - he was excited. He remembered the exhilaration he had felt in every muscle in his body. Then he thought back to the images he was always presented with at Solomon’s office - he took a quick glance to the short boy at his side and wondered if Frank would ever make him feel the same exhilaration the chalice gave without the use of magic. Frank caught him staring and smirked. Gerard turned bright red, but it was too dark to notice.  
The ritual went on, each member going up for his contribution and shivering when his blood dripped in. Then it was Frank’s turn, and then Gerard’s. The gave each other quick smiles and a hand squeeze before they went up, as if even a few seconds away from each other was deserving of a farewell.  
When the ritual was finished, they went outside so that Gerard could practice his powers more. This time, when Gerard tried to harness his wind power, a wave of air expanded out in a ring from where he stood, and naturally, Frank was knocked to the ground again. They both decided that they could practice their powers together next week, and spent the rest of their time sitting on the ground in front of the house, talking about music.  
When it was time for Gerard to leave, Frank pulled him in for a kiss. Gerard kissed him back, and they wrapped their arms around each other. Even tied down in Dr. Solomon’s office, Gerard didn’t feel as vulnerable as when he was with Frank - but there was something amazing about the vulnerability he felt. Frank didn’t make him feel like he needed to hide who he was, or be ashamed of what he looked like or enjoyed. He just...accepted him for who he was.  
The kiss was quickly turning into a makeout session, and Gerard was surprised at how long he lasted without doing something extremely awkward to ruin the moment. It turned out he didn’t have to, as they were both interrupted by a loud whistle and laughing from the house; a group of guys were standing at the open doorway with their arms crossed and huge, dumb smiles on their faces.  
“Oh my GOD,’ Frank complained, standing up to yell at his friends, “Guys, fuck off!”  
He looked down at Gerard apologetically, and this time the roles were reversed. Frank was blushing deeply while Gerard giggled uncontrollably. The prospect of the group members catching their intimate moment amused more than embarrassed him. It was like a moment Gerard had always seen in cheesy high school love movies. When the cute couple were caught having time alone and their friends would laugh and tease them good naturedly. Since he wasn’t really used to having friends, and never even considered that he would one day have a significant other, this weird - and extremely gay - version of the normal life Gerard had only dreamed of almost made him tear up. He glanced back at the guys as they finally walked away and closed the door, musing on the idea that they also accepted him for who he was (well most of them anyway) and could soon grow to be the supporting friends he never had while growing up.  
“God,” Frank muttered when the door closed, “they’re such assholes.”  
Gerard laughed, “They’re great.”  
Frank shook his head and helped Gerard to his feet, “Yeah, you say that, but you don’t have to spend all week with them.”  
“Oh..yeah,” Gerard’s eyes got distant as he remembered that he would have to wait a whole week to see Frank again.  
“I mean…” Frank began cautiously, “Unless...unless you wanna come over more than once a week? I mean, we don’t do rituals every day -a lot of us stick around all week if we have nowhere else to go, and it would just be cool to have you...around, ya know? ”  
“Really?” Gerard asked, the possibility only just occurring to him, “That would be great! I mean...I’d have to be even more careful-”  
“You still have the gun I gave you, right?”  
“Frank, what is it with you and the freaking gun? I’m not gonna be shooting anyone any time soon!”  
“We live in a crazy fucking town, Gerard. You never know.”  
Gerard sighed, “Yes, I still have it. It’s in my sweater pocket, but I don’t like carrying it around with me everywhere. I already have a place picked out to hide it.”  
“Alright,” Frank said, trying to be content with the response, “Just make sure you bring it whenever you come over, okay?”  
Gerard rolled his eyes, “Frankie-”  
“Don’t ‘Frankie’ me, just say that you will, okay?”  
“Fine,” Gerard huffed, not at all intending to keep his word.  
“Okay. Good.” Frank stretched up to peck him on the cheek and swatted his butt as he walked away.  
“Hey!”  
Frank winked at him, “See you when I see you, Gee.”

When Gerard got home, he went straight to his bedroom, as usual. Throughout the week, he had been gathering supplies that he kept in a cardboard box under his bed. Some strips of cardboard, glue, an Exacto knife, and of course, the bible Michelle had given him. He set to work, carefully cutting out rectangles of paper, section by section. It took him forever, and he sliced his thumb more than a few times, but he tried to work quickly for fear of being caught. When the cutting was done, he glued some cardboard into the base.  
Gerard pulled the gun out of his sweater pocket - just the contact of his skin to the cold surface gave him chills, and he quickly placed it into the hollowed out bible. Immediately, Gerard felt as if a weight of lift had been lifted off his shoulders.  
He smiled as he placed the bible back into the box, “Looks like you do have a use after all.” Oh God, he thought, I need to stop talking to myself.  
Gerard filled the rest of the space in the box with old sketchbooks and craft supplies, things the rest of his family would be utterly uninterested in. He shoved the box back under his bed and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the vague feeling that his times of going unsuspected were about to come to an end.  
That night, he went to bed feeling happy, as Friday was quickly becoming his favourite day of the week. He still had trouble falling asleep, but when he finally did, his dreams were about Frank and flying - about finally being free.


	14. Thank You for the Venom XIV: You Do So Carry On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard shows Ray his powers. Michelle continues to be Michelle.

Thank You for the Venom XIV: You Do So Carry On

Beginning from the next week, Gerard would often sneak out a few minutes a day to visit Frank. He would use different ploys each time; grocery shopping, going for a walk, visiting the music store. His parents seemed suspicious because he usually rarely left the house, but they were glad to have him doing something other than moping in his room.  
He decided not to visit on Wednesdays - on those days, he was too nervous about visits with Solomon to be any fun - especially if it was a shock therapy day. When he did visit, he practiced his wind powers as much as he could, slowly learning how to summon it for more than a few moments without it blasting everything around him. It became like a second home where he could escape from his parents, and he even made a few friends. Brendon and Patrick - with water and earth links respectively - were two guys among the group that had been spying on Gerard and Frank. They both found them adorable and insisted on playfully teasing Gerard every time he visited.  
Despite the safe new environment, Gerard was still feeling the effects of the medication Solomon had put him on. His twitching had gotten worse and he was quickly losing weight. Frank had noticed, but he guessed Gerard’s weight was a sensitive topic and said nothing.   
With each Friday Gerard participated in the bloodletting ritual, he could feel himself getting stronger, and his scar was darkening and growing in length. On one Thursday, Frank had insisted that Ray see how far Gerard had come in such a short amount of time. The two of them waited outside for Gerard to come at the time they had agreed on.  
“Hey, guys,” Gerard waved as he walked up to them. The day before had been a shock day, and his twitching and dizziness had gotten to a point where his muscles would occasionally seize up for a moment and his vision would darken suddenly. He almost tripped over himself as he got to the house.  
“Whoa,” Frank said as he and Ray reached out to support him, “You okay?”  
“Huh? Uh, yeah,” Gerard quickly shook his head, trying to shake the hazy feeling away, “I’m such a klutz.”  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ray’s fatherly concern was beginning to kick in, “You look really tired. It’s cool if you don’t want to use your powers today.”  
“Nah, it’s cool,” Gerard waved him off, “Come on, I wanna show you what I can do.”  
Gerard took a couple steps away from them and took his usual relaxed stance. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, feeling the wind in his hair and imagining it swirling around his body and into his hand. The odd sensation of air being let from his hand returned, and his raised his palm upward, using the other to cup the swirling wind.  
He opened his eyes to see the familiar swirls, dancing around gracefully in between his hands in the silvery light of his eyes. Ray and Frank sat cross legged a few feet away. Frank was smiling proudly while Ray marveled.  
“You can already made a wind sphere?” Ray asked in amazement, “I mean...I was expecting a few bursts of energy, but this-”  
“He’s pretty great, huh?” Frank grinned, “I taught him everything he knows.”  
Gerard rolled his eyes and opened his fingers slightly in Frank's direction, sending a gust of wind right at him. Frank ducked and rolled to his feet. He sliced his hand through the air and sent a wall of fire to block himself from Gerard’s view.  
“Hey!” Ray called, getting nervous, “Guys, be careful…”  
Gerard lifted his hands up into the air, crossing his forearms. He brought them down with a yell, sending a burst of air at the flames to extinguish them - they only burned higher, fueled by the oxygen.  
“Guys-” Ray warned.  
“Ha!” Frank called from behind his flames, sounding like an excited child playing pretend. “You’ve only made me stronger!”  
Gerard laughed, feeling a sense of competitiveness he rarely experienced. He made a fist with his right hand and swung it around, releasing his grip at the last second. The air around him followed suit and a rush of wind swerved around the wall of fire, hitting Frank from the side.  
“Goddammit!” Frank yelled as he fell to the ground for what seemed like the hundredth time.  
Gerard giggled, but Ray wasn’t laughing. Frank’s flames were climbing higher with his emotions, and if he didn’t stop them soon, someone could get hurt. He got up and held his open hands out to the base of the flames, inhaling deeply through his nose. A deep churning attacked his stomach, growing in pain as a low rumbling sound began to come from the earth.  
Frank and Gerard froze like two naughty children who had been caught by their father. Gerard had never seen Ray angry before, but the intense stare he gave to the ground with his glowing green eyes was scary enough - Gerard never wanted to piss him off. The rumbling grew louder and louder and the earth began to shake - not violently, but enough for Gerard to get nervous.  
Suddenly, Gerard heard what sounded like a beast roaring. The earth shook once more - violently this time - and suddenly the flames were gone. It took Gerard a second to realize what Ray had done - he had caused a chasm to open up, devour the flames, and then close back up. Frank and Gerard stared silently at him in awe.   
“Well…” Frank began, disturbing the quiet, “That’s just showing off.”  
Ray smiled and shrugged, “You guys weren’t listening and I had to make sure no one got hurt.”  
“Whatever.”  
“That’s SO COOL,” Gerard exclaimed bouncing excitedly.  
Frank crossed his arms and mumbled, “I still think fire’s better.”  
“Hush, Frank,” Ray scolded.  
“What does it feel like?” Gerard asked suddenly, remembering that the sensations were different for each link, “To...control the earth, I mean.”  
Ray laughed softly and scratched his head, “Well...you can’t really control the earth. You kind of just...ask it to listen to you.”  
“Yeah,” Frank said moodily, “Well I can control my flames. I don’t have to ask anything.”  
Ray sighed, “It’s not just earthquakes either - I can also do this.” He held his hand towards the ground at Frank’s feet and swirled his fingers around. Up from the barren ash sprouted bright green vines that wrapped around Frank’s sneakers and up his legs.  
“Rayyyyyy,” Frank whined.  
Ray flicked his forefinger up in the air and Frank went flying.  
“HOLY SHIT!”  
Gerard squinted up at the bright sky as Frank screamed and flailed.  
Ray shot his other hand out in the direction of where Frank would land. More vines shot up and caught him, softly wrapping around his torso. He banged his fists on them and kicked his little legs while Gerard and Ray laughed at his struggle.  
“I hate you. I hate both of you so much.”  
Gerard laughed so hard he almost fell to the ground.  
“Ugghhhh,” Frank groaned as the vines set him softly down. He sneered at them as they slithered back into the earth, “I’m gonna be sick.”  
Ray shook his head, “oh calm down, you crybaby.”  
“How the fuck do you get to tell us to be safe and then hurl me fifty feet in the fucking air!”  
“It was not fifty feet,” Ray said, “It was like...fifteen feet tops.”  
Gerard was laughing so hard he began to wheeze, “it probably seemed like more,” he stopped to breathe, “‘cause he’s so tiny.”  
“Whatever!” Frank yelled indignantly, and stomped his foot, “You’re still a fucking hypocrite.”  
Ray wiped a tear away from his eye, still chuckling, “I’m more responsible, so you weren’t in any danger.”  
Frank frowned and made incoherent grumpy noises as he sat angrily down on the ground. Gerard and Ray roared with laughter. The three of them sat together for a few more minutes until Gerard decided it was about time to leave.  
“See you guys tomorrow,” He said as he waved goodbye.   
Ray and Frank waited until he was out of earshot to speak again.  
“So…” Frank began, “Do you think I was right when we first met?”  
“About Gerard?”  
“Yeah.”  
Ray exhaled slowly, “It seems like there’s a very good chance it’s him. I’ve never seen anyone master their powers so quickly.”  
Frank nodded.  
“But anyway,” Ray continued, “It doesn’t matter what I think; it’s the chalice that decides.”  
“But-” Frank said, “What if...what if he’s not strong enough?”  
“You think he won’t be able to do what needs to be done?”  
Frank shook his head, “Not just that. I mean - what if it hurts him?”  
Ray was silent for a moment before replying, “I...I don’t know. We’ve never done anything this big before. All we can do is wait and see.”  
“Dammit,” Frank muttered.  
“I know. It sucks being in the dark so much,” Ray squeezed Frank’s shoulder, “But everything will work out, okay?”  
Frank shrugged his hand off and looked away, “I’ll see you inside, kay?” That was Ray’s cue to give Frank some alone time.  
“Okay.” Ray got up and went back into the house.  
Frank lit a cigarette and glared out at the forest. He had no idea what the hell was going to happen, and he hated it. He was just happy to be certain about what he did now. For instance: he would be spending tomorrow with Gerard again. That, at least, was a comforting thought.

The evening of the next day, Gerard was getting ready to get driven to youth group. He stood by the door and pulled on his sweater - it was a bit chilly that night, and he was glad for the excuse to wear it. As he reached into his pocket for his fingerless gloves, his sister walked into view.  
“Ah-ha!” She exclaimed, rushing forward to grab his wrist, “I knew that wasn’t a cut!” She held up his right hand to inspect the mark.  
“Michelle!” Gerard hissed, pulling his hand away, “Leave me alone, it’s nothing.”  
“I’ve seen that snake somewhere before,” she insisted, “Didn’t your friend Frank have the same one?”  
Gerard looked around quickly to make sure neither of their parents were around, “Michelle, keep your voice down.”  
“And that hoodie,” she pointed to the cuff of his sweater, “it has a snake on it too.”  
“Michelle-”  
“I’ve been asking around since the day I saw it at breakfast. About people with snake tattoos on their hands.”  
“It’s not a tatt-” Gerard looked up sharply when his brain registered what she said, “wait, you’ve been what?!”  
“I didn’t find out much,” Michelle admitted, “Except that people think it’s some kind of gang.”  
“Gang?” Gerard almost laughed, “You think I’m part of a gang?”  
“I...I don’t know!” She exclaimed, frustrated, “But you’re hiding something from us and it has to do with Frank. I’m going to find out what it is.”  
“No, you will not,” Gerard said through gritted teeth, “You’re gonna keep your cowardly mouth shut.” Frank’s words from weeks before sounded even harsher coming from his own mouth. He felt guilty about the insulted look on his sister’s face, but he didn’t stop, “You don’t care if mom and dad treat me like crap, but you’re ready to snitch on me the first chance you get?”  
“I...Gerard-” Michelle wasn’t used to having her flaws pointed out.  
“What?!”  
She lowered her head in shame. “I’m sorry about...about how they treat you.”  
“You should be,” Gerard spat.  
Michelle looked back up at him, anger in her eyes, “But that’s no excuse to go do something stupid with some dangerous group-”  
“Michelle, just - just -” He groaned, scraping his hands through his hair, “You don’t understand what’s going on okay? You’re just a kid - there’s no way you’d get it, so just keep your nose out of my business!”  
“I’m trying to help you,” she pleaded.  
“I don’t need your help!” Gerard was as loud as he could be while still whispering, “In fact, I would deeply appreciate it if you just left me the fuck alone!”  
Michelle took a step back and Gerard immediately regretted his words. He had never spoken so rudely to his little sister before and he doubted she would take it well. Her bottom lip began to quiver and he knew it was too late to apologize. He still tried.  
“Wait, Michelle-” he reached his hand out.  
“Fine!” she exclaimed, trying to hide her shaking voice, “If this is what you want then…” She didn’t finish her words. She just turned and stomped up the stairs.  
Their mother came down the stairs a few minutes later.  
“Ready to go?” She asked.   
“Yep,” Gerard nodded.  
The sooner he got out of there, the sooner he could be away from his crazy-ass family. Man, he thought, thank God it’s Friday.


	15. Thank You for the Venom XV: Hallelujah, Lock and Load

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Drinker is decided.  
> FRANK SAYS THE THING.

Thank You for the Venom XV: Hallelujah, Lock and Load

When Gerard got to the Band of the Serpent’s Son, it was a lot quieter than usual. Everyone was huddled around the altar, which had been ringed with candles. As he got closer, he saw that there was a large piece of parchment on it. Ray knelt closer to the altar, tracing his fingers around some sort of trail. He lifted his head when he saw Gerard.  
“Hey, come on, this is important.”  
Gerard nodded and quickly scampered to kneel beside Frank, who was beside Ray. He was afraid that he would have to push his way through, but the guys smiled and allowed him through, knowing he would only feel comfortable being next to his boyfriend. (The group had collectively decided that yes, Frank and Gerard were definitely boyfriends)  
“What are we looking at?” Gerard asked.  
“A map of the town,” Ray said.  
Gerard tilted his head in confusion. It didn’t look like a map of the town. It looked like an old pirate treasure map with odd symbols all over it - or Norse runes, he guessed. It struck him how little he knew of the group he was now a part of. But then again, he was treated better here than at home, so it didn’t really matter to him how much he knew.  
“Look,” Ray said, pointing at triangles which had been used to mark different spots around Dolorosa, “Each of these is a different location in town. When we begin the final ritual, everyone will go in pairs to their designated spot.” He pointed at the very centre of the map, “And the Drinker will come here, to the outside of this house.”  
Gerard blinked, “This house is in the centre of town?”  
Ray nodded, “The centre of the serpent.” He traced his finger around the spots, which formed a circle with the Band of the Serpent’s Son right in the middle. “Each pair will perform the summoning ritual at the exact same time. And then the Drinker will drink from the chalice and become the Serpent’s Son.”  
“And...and then what?” Gerard asked.  
“And then he gains the fifth element and Jormungand rises.”  
Gerard furrowed his brow, “But then...what do we do after that?”  
Ray paused and the group began to grumble to each other. They had never really planned much past the final ritual - they had just been spending their time making sure it could even happen.  
“I…” Ray began, “Well I guess that’s when the cleansing starts. It’s really Jormungand who’ll do most of it. We just have to wait for his orders and obey them.”  
“Oh…” Gerard said, remembering how uneasy the word ‘cleansing’ had made him the first time, “So...when do we perform the final ritual?”  
“We can do it as soon as we know who the Drinker will be,” Ray said. “We’re going to determine that tonight, so really we could do it at any time. But I want us to keep practising our powers for a while longer.”  
Ray cleared the altar of the map and went to get the chalice while the boys got in the familiar semi-circle for the Filling. Gerard didn’t know what was happening, but he guessed Frank did and followed along.  
“So,” Gerard said quietly as Ray brought the now filled chalice forward, “Who do you think the Drinker will be, huh?”  
Frank looked at him but didn’t respond. The queasy feeling returned to Gerard’s stomach.  
Slowly, Ray made his way around the circle, this time performing the bloodletting as he walked around. When he reached back to the beginning, he put his right hand over the blood for a few seconds - nothing happened. His shoulders seemed to sag a little, and he passed it to the person beside him, who did the same thing and got the same result. Then he passed it to the next person and so on. Each time, nothing happened, and each group member looked a bit disappointed at the outcome.   
“What are we doing?” Gerard asked through the side of his mouth.  
“Like Ray said,” Frank responded gravely, “we’re seeing who’s gonna drink from the cup.”  
“But nothing’s happening.”  
“Exactly. When the person meant to drink it puts his hand over...I don’t know what’s gonna happen. Just...something.”  
Gerard eyed Frank suspiciously. He seemed more serious than usual, but he supposed it was because they were determining the son of a deity among their group. If he had spent years devoting his life to this moment, he would be a bit on edge as well.  
When the chalice got to Frank, he stared it down as if it were challenging him to a fight. He placed his right hand over it and grimaced in concentration. He tightened the muscles in his hand until it began to shake - still, nothing happened. He sighed and gave the chalice to Gerard.  
Gerard hesitantly took it, noticing now that he was holding it how heavy it was. He held his breath as he gently put his hand out over it. He felt nothing. He looked over at Frank and tried for a sheepish smile.  
“I guess it’s not me eith - Frankie, what’s up?”  
Frank was staring at him with his mouth hanging open. A silver light began to illuminate Frank’s face and he pointed to the chalice. Gerard’s head whipped back down and saw that the blood had turned to a bright glowing silver. Slowly, groups of droplets began to rise from the cup. They grouped together and formed a triangle with a horizontal line through the upper third - the symbol for air.  
“It is you,” Frank said in awe.  
Gerard looked around in a panic. Some of the guys began to cheer - some of them looked pissed off - but most of them seemed happy for him - happier than he was.  
“W-wait,” Gerard stammered, “Does this mean I’m the-”  
“The Serpent’s Son,” Bob said, rolling his eyes from across the circle, “But he just joined,” he addressed the whole group when he said this, but it was obvious his complaint was directed at Ray, “I’ve been here for years, but he just waltzes in and gets the part?”  
A few other group members grumbled in agreement, but Ray quieted them, “This isn’t about how long you’ve been here. This is about who’s best suited for the position. If that happens to be Gerard, then it doesn’t matter how long he’s been here.”  
“But-” Gerard interrupted, “I mean...I don’t really mind if someone else wants to-”  
“See?” Bob yelled, “He doesn’t even want to do it! He came here for fun and games but he’s too scared to actually make the commitment!”  
Gerard felt his heartbeat quicken at the confrontation. A bunch of the other group members hopped to his defense, including Frank.  
“Shut up, Bob!” Frank countered, “If wanna bitch about it, take it up with Jormungand - he’s the one who chose!”  
Bob remained silent but continued to seethe.  
“Everyone, quiet!” Ray yelled, prompting everyone to be silent, “Gerard has been chosen and there’s nothing any of you can do to change that. Now I suggest you all show some respect to him - he’s now the Son of the Serpent.” With that, Ray slowly got down on one knee and bowed his head.  
Frank immediately did the same, and soon the entire group followed. Bob was the last to kneel, but he did so anyway. Gerard was left standing with the chalice in his hand and a whole room bowing to him. A few seconds passed and the triangle gently descended back into the chalice, the blood turning back to its dark hue. The boys stood up and Ray came to take the chalice, carefully placing it on the altar. He did a quick chant under his breath and a glowing white circle appeared beneath the chalice’s base - an ouroboros.  
“This chalice cannot be touched by anyone until Gerard comes back to claim it during the final ritual. If anyone even touches it, the ritual will be ruined and we’ll have to start the Filling from scratch.” He looked around the room to make sure everyone got the picture, “Also, they’ll die a horrible, painful death. So there’s that.”  
The crowd dispersed and went back to chatting at various places in the room. Usually, they would have turned on some music to dance, but everyone was still on edge after witnessing the son of their worshipped deity being chosen. Gerard received a few reassuring smiles - Patrick even gave him a hug - but he felt like he was about to throw up, and it wasn’t because of his medication.  
“Uh, Frank,” He said quietly.  
“Mm?” Frank had been staring at him, even after the glow had died down.  
“I need some fresh air. Like now.”  
Frank nodded and they walked outside together. Gerard leaned against the outer wall of the house for support - it felt like his knees were about to give out.  
“Frank...I can’t do this.”  
“Yes you can,” Frank said with determination, “You have to.”  
“Why?” Gerard insisted, “And why me, out of everyone?”  
“Because,” Frank said, “You’re exactly what Jormungand is looking for.”  
Gerard paused, “What...what do you mean?”  
“There’s...there’s this one book Ray has. The book a lot of our rituals are based on. It says that when powerful beings claim a mortal as their...I don’t know, representative, they choose someone they can relate to the most.”  
“And a giant snake relates to me?”  
“Yes,” Frank said, “Jormungand in particular is bitter about being discarded and tossed away. Ray told me that the only person right for the role would have to have gone through a lot of pain.” He ignored the look Gerard was giving him and stared at the ground instead, “But there’s this...there’s this other book that says deities will only choose a pure soul. So…” Frank sighed, his voice full of guilt, “So we basically needed an innocent, but tortured soul.”  
Gerard stared at him, “I...I don’t...how the fuck do I even respond to that?”  
“Gerard-”  
“An ‘innocent, but tortured soul’? This isn’t fucking poetry, Frank, this is my life!”  
“I know!” Frank said, “But if you do this, you can make your life so much better-”  
“Is that why you talked to me at youth group? Is that why we’re...” Gerard could feel his insecurities beginning to seep in. It all made sense - the only way someone as attractive as Frank would ever be interested in him was if he needed something…  
“No!” Frank insisted, “I mean...that’s why I wanted you to join, but that’s not why I insisted on doing the Black Kiss with you, and it’s definitely not why we’re dating. I...I care about you, Gerard. A lot. And that has nothing to do with Jormungand.”  
Gerard looked away, refusing to allow the tears welling up in his eyes to spill out. “I want to believe you.”  
“Gerard!” Frank exclaimed, putting his arms around him and pulling him close, “I’m not lying Gerard, please.” At the last word, Frank’s voice cracked and Gerard gave in. He hugged Frank to his chest.  
“I don’t understand,” Frank said, his voice muffled against Gerard’s body, “Why it’s so hard for you to believe that I care about you. But I do. So fucking much.”  
Gerard hugged him tighter until he began to squirm, “Okay...Gee, this is a great moment, but you’re gonna break my ribs.”  
Gerard laughed and pulled away, “Sorry. I just get...emotional sometimes.”  
“I’ve noticed,” Frank said, his teasing smirk making a comeback.  
“So, um…” Gerard said, “Do you think the blood is gonna taste-”  
“Like shit?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Well,” Frank mused, “It’s blood first of all, and some of it has been in there for years.” He laughed at the disgusted look on Gerard’s face, “But I mean...it’s also magical, so who knows?”  
Gerard sighed, “Well that didn’t help at all.”  
“Don’t worry about it,” Frank assured him, “I’m gonna be with you the entire time. Hey, speaking of time-”  
“Oh geez,” Gerard said, looking at his watch, “You’re right, I gotta leave now if I’m not gonna be late.”  
“See you later,’ Frank kissed him on the cheek. He continued to wave good-bye until Gerard had completely disappeared into the forest. 

Gerard inserted his house key into the lock, happy that he had resolved the issue with Frank. For a second, he felt as if the trust he had spent weeks building was about to slip away in a matter of seconds.  
When he opened the door, he felt an excruciating sting under his eye - suddenly he was on the floor. He tried to get up but he was pushed down. When his vision cleared, he saw that he was being pinned to the floor, his father’s boot planted roughly on his shoulder.  
“Dad? What-”  
“SHUT UP!” His father yelled, gripping the belt he had used to hit Gerard in his hands, “What did I tell you would happen if I caught you running around with that goddamn-”  
Gerard could feel the slur coming on. “Dad, don’t-”  
“Shut the hell up!” His father roared, slinging the belt so that it hit Gerard’s side. “You’re one of them and you know it!” Another whip.  
Gerard cried out in pain, trying to curl up and block his abdomen from the lashes. He heard frantic footsteps as his mother and sister rushed to see what was happening.  
“Daddy, what are you doing?” Gerard could only see her legs, but he could tell Michelle was crying. “I...I didn’t want you to do this.”  
“You…” Gerard croaked, “You told him…”  
“I-”  
“You traitor!”  
Gerard’s father dragged him up by the collar and pinned him against the wall, “Don’t you dare talk to my daughter like that, you scum!”  
Gerard looked to his sister and mother, but as usual, neither stepped forward to help him. He glared at them until their shame made them avert their eyes.  
“You’ve been lying to us this entire time,” his father seethed, “When Michelle told me about your little tattoo, I called Simon. Not only have you been ditching youth groups, but he said you were part of a cult?”  
Gerard’s eyes went wide. He shook his head dumbly, “I...why would he-”  
“Because it’s the same tattoo Frank has and the whole reason Frank had to go to the youth group was because he was caught reading some heathen book about witchcraft.”  
Gerard remembered his first conversation with Frank, and what he said he had gotten in trouble for. ‘Hard drugs and Black Magic.’  
“Dad,” Gerard desperately tried to reason with his father, “you don’t understand-”  
“Oh,” his father cut in, “I understand plenty.” He wrenched Gerard’s hand up and ripped off the fingerless glove, revealing the ouroboros - in the time Gerard had been gone, it had finished growing, now creating a complete circle around his thumb. His mother gasped as she realized that it was not a scar, and his father slapped him across the face.  
“Who gave you the idea that you could go and get a tattoo without asking me? Oh wait, it was probably your boyfriend.” He spat the word as if it was the most disgusting thing he had ever spoken.  
“Frank’s not my-” Gerard’s voice trailed off as he tried to keep his voice from quivering. There was no use in trying to seem unfazed though; tears were beginning to stream down his face.  
“What?” His father challenged, “He’s not your boyfriend? You don’t like him like that? Well, maybe we’ll just have to ask Dr. Solomon about your feelings towards boys-”  
At the mention of Dr. Solomon, Gerard’s face burned up and he began to shake, “You think this is funny? The hell you’ve put me through? Do you even know what he does to me on Wednesdays?”  
At this, his father yelled in rage and punched him, this time in the nose. Gerard leaned against the wall, refusing to fall to the ground again. Michelle rushed forward, unable to see her brother bloodied again.  
“Dad,” she pleaded, “What is he talking about? What did Dr. Solomon do to him?”  
Her father whipped around, sending a sharp slap directly to her cheek. She screamed and staggered backwards into her mother’s arms. He stood frozen for a second, shocked by the pain he had caused his daughter.  
“Michelle...I...I didn’t mean to-”  
“She’s just a kid!” Gerard yelled, “and she’s got nothing to do with this, how dare you-”  
“How dare I!?” His father spun back around, shoving Gerard back into the wall, “You have no right to even be speaking to me right now!”  
“Get off me!” Gerard roared. His anger overcame him, and suddenly, the world around him flashed silver. He heard screaming and rushing wind. When his vision cleared, the house was silent. His father lay on the floor, a picture frame had fallen off the wall, and a vase had broken.  
Oh no, Gerard thought, his heart sinking into his stomach, not now, please not now.  
“What…” his father said, shakily standing to his feet, “What the hell was that?”  
Gerard was frozen, not knowing how to explain himself in a way that wouldn’t seem insane.  
“Your eyes-” his mother whispered in terror, “What happened to your eyes?”  
“I...I…” Gerard looked at his family. Both his parents were shaking in fear and his sister was sobbing, scared out of her mind. “Wait-” he reached out an arm and they all flinched.  
“Th-that’s it,” his father stammered as he rose to his feet, trying to regain his bravery, “I knew it, I knew we never should have taken you in, you...you demon spawn.”  
“I...what?” Gerard turned to his father, not comprehending his words.  
“You!” he yelled, “And your brother Mikey.”  
Gerard froze at the rarely spoken name, “...Mikey?”  
“Your mother - your real mother - was a slut. When she got pregnant with you, she wasn’t married yet - her parents disowned her and she had to go live with the bastard who got her pregnant. Even from the womb, you were destroying families. When she got pregnant with Mikey, her husband - your father - got caught up in some gang violence and was shot. Explains where you got it from.”  
Gerard shook his head. In only a few seconds, almost everything he believed to be true had been turned on its head. Then he realized for the first time how different he looked from his parents. His mother was blonde like Michelle, and his father’s close-cut, greying hair had once been sandy brown. He had always assumed he got his darker brown hair from a grandparent, but now...no. He refused to believe it. “No..you’re...you’re lying!”  
“Live in denial if you want! You’re not my son! When your mother left the two of you on our doorstep, she was so poor, she could barely afford to take care of herself, much less two kids. I knew from the start that we should have just taken Mikey. It would have been easier to explain a newborn than a damn two-year old. Do you have any idea how much of my reputation I tarnished with the rumours that came in about you?”  
“How is that my fault?” Gerard screamed in rage, “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask to be born or taken in!” Gerard’s eyes began to glow again, becoming brighter and brighter with each angry breath.  
His father, or the man he once regarded as such, went straight for the door, “I’m getting the pastor. He’ll know how to deal with the likes of you.”  
Now left alone with his shaking mother and sister, he tried to reassure them. He reached for his sister’s arm.  
“Michelle-”  
“No!” She tried to push him away and by habit, he lifted his hands up to block the attack. A gust of wind flew from his hands, sending her into the wall.  
“Michelle!” Her mother screamed. She turned to Gerard, her eyes full of fear and anger, “What has she ever done to you?”   
“Wait-” Gerard said, “I didn’t mean to-”  
“What’s wrong with you? What have you done to yourself, you’ve become a demon!”  
“No!” Gerard shook his head frantically, “Mom, I’m not-”  
“I’m not your mother!” she screeched.  
Gerard stared at her, and this time he was the one full of fear. For years, she had treated him as if he were her son, but now all of her compassion, or what she had pretended was compassion, was gone.  
She stared straight into his eyes and sneered, “It should have been you that died, not Mikey.”  
Gerard felt a new rush of tears come to his eyes, “You...you don’t mean that-”  
Seconds later, the door burst open. His father (for lack of a better word) returned with the pastor who lived a few houses down. He had come with a bible and a crucifix - they were going to try and exorcise him.   
Gerard took a step back, but his mother grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to the ground.  
“Aaugh!”  
“You were right, Gerard,” she said bitterly, “I was a coward. But not anymore. I won’t let you hurt my family.”  
“Mom, please-” Her grip on his hair tightened and he cried out in pain, “Stop, please, mom.”  
She pulled him up to shriek in his ear. “I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER!”  
Gerard yelled again and another blast of wind rippled through the room, sending everyone to the ground. He took the opportunity to get up and run to his room.  
“GET BACK HERE!” His father yelled.  
Gerard frantically began to try and block his room door, his heart pounding faster and harder than it ever had in his life. He began to tug at his bookshelf, but then he realized his stupidity. He took a step back and pushed his hands out towards it - a wall of air pressed against it, and it slid into place in front of his door. A second later, his father was banging his fists against the door. Gerard jumped at the sound, even letting out a cry of fear.  
He rushed over to his dresser and picked up his phone, hastily dialing the number to the Band of the Serpent’s Son. He hoped to Jormungand that they weren’t blasting the music too loud and that they’d hear the phone. The phone rang for a few seconds - there was no answer.  
“Please,” Gerard whispered as he dialed the number again, “Please, please, please, please, Frank I need you.”  
The phone rang again and Gerard bounced impatiently. He could have sworn his heart was beating along with his father’s angry fists against the door. Finally, someone picked up.  
“Hello?” The gruff voice said. It was Bob.  
“Bob! Get Frank on the phone right now!”  
“...Gerard?”  
The second Bob said his name, Gerard could hear scuffling in the background and Bob swearing as someone pushed him out of the way and grabbed the phone.  
“Hey, Gerard,” It was Frank, “What’s up? I thought you weren’t allowed to call me-”  
“Frank!” Gerard sobbed with relief and began spewing his words out in a slur of crying, “Frankie-I-need-you-you-gotta-get-over-here-right-now!”  
“What…?” The humour was suddenly gone from Frank’s voice, “Gerard, what’s wrong?”  
Gerard sniffled, shakily running a hand through his hair. “They...they’ve-been-giving-me-pills-and-th-the-doctor-he....I-can’t-do-this-anymore-Frankie-please-”  
“-Gerard, I don’t understand-”  
“-and-they-know-about-my-powers-and-they-know-about-you-and-everything-and they’re-coming-for-me-and-and-”  
“Gerard! Calm down!”  
“Frankie, I’m scared.” his voice whittled down to a whisper, “I’m so fucking scared, please help me.”  
There was silence on the other end of the line for a while. Then Gerard heard Frank’s muffled voice. He only caught the tail end of what he was saying, but it was enough, “Ray, we’ve gotta do the ritual tonight.” Then he came back to the phone, “Don’t worry, Gerard. I’m coming to save you.” The line clicked and went dead.  
With Frank no longer on the phone, Gerard felt completely isolated. His father continued to bang on the door, so he frantically moved his desk and dresser in front of the door as well. Using so much air took a lot of energy out of him, but he felt a lot safer. When he was finished, he was about to take refuge on his bed - then something banged against his window, and he jumped.  
Gingerly, Gerard walked over to his window and slid back the curtain - it was Frank. He had climbed a tree in their backyard and was leaning precariously out to Gerard’s window.  
“Frank!” Gerard exclaimed as he opening the window and helped him in, “How did you get here so quickly?”  
Frank shrugged, “Hotwired a car.”  
Gerard found himself laughing, not from Frank’s law breaking, but from pure joy. He swept his boyfriend into a tight hug and began to cry again.  
Frank pulled away and dried his tears, “Don’t worry, Gerard. It’s fine. I’m here now and those fucks aren’t hurting you ever again.” Frank looked at the blockade Gerard had created, “At any rate, they won’t be getting in here anytime soon. Come on, get your gun and we can get out of here.”  
“But-” Gerard interjected, not wanting to face his family again, “Why do we need our guns? Aren’t we just going back the way you came?”  
“No. Now that you’re in danger, the ritual got bumped to right freaking now. We have to get out of here as quickly as possible and it’ll be faster if we escape in the direction of the Band. Now hurry up. Where do you keep your gun?”  
Gerard shakily walked over to his bed and pulled his craft box out from underneath it. He quickly tossed his art supplies out of it, noting sadly that he’d probably never use them again.  
Despite the situation, Frank almost laughed when he saw Gerard’s hiding spot for the gun, “You kept the gun in a bible?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard said defensively, “It was a good place.”  
“Alrighty then,” Frank shrugged and pulled his own gun out of his pocket. A devious smile spread across his face as he cocked his weapon.“Hallelujah, lock and load.” 

END OF SONG I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there little emos. You might be slightly confused as to what "END OF SONG 1" means. Like I said in the first summary, this fic is a compilation of multiple songs. Thank You For The Venom is the first in probably five that I'll be using. The next song is Our Lady of Sorrows and it's a short three-parter. When Our Lady of Sorrows is finished, don't freak out. It may seem like the end, but it's not. (my friends who proof-read for me totally freaked out and I'm pretty sure it's gonna happen again regardless of what I say, but whatevs)


	16. Our Lady of Sorrows I: Riddle of Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard fulfills his role as the Drinker.

Our Lady of Sorrows I: Riddle of Revenge

Gerard stared at Frank in awe. He could not believe they were actually about to do this. Outside his bedroom door, his father continued to bang angrily on the door. When he realized it was blocked, he began to slam his shoulder into it, not making any progress.  
“Man,” Frank said, “your dad’s really annoying.”  
Gerard scowled, “He’s not my dad.”  
Frank turned his head in surprise. “What?”  
“I’ll explain later.”   
“Oooookay...Are you ready?”  
Gerard took a shaky breath, “I...I don’t know.”  
“What do you mean ‘you don’t know?’”  
“I…” Gerard ran his hands through his hair, “I can’t face my family, not after what just happened. They think I’m a monster.”  
“And that’s what you’re concerned about? Gerard, they’re the monsters!”  
“But-”  
“Gerard,” Frank said in a serious tone, “I know you’re scared, I do. But you’re not going to let them push you around anymore, okay? Tonight you’ll be free.” He reached out and grabbed Gerard’s hand. “Trust me, Gerard. After tonight, you’ll never have to be afraid of anyone ever again.”  
Gerard took a few deep breaths, “Okay...okay, let’s go. I trust you.”  
Frank gave him a quick nod and smirk. Gerard held his hands out towards the door and closed his eyes. A gust of wind began to swirl around the furniture, moving them away from his bedroom door. With the door free, Gerard’s dad nearly tumbled into the room on his next attempt to knock it down. He turned pale when he saw Frank standing in Gerard’s room, holding a gun.  
“Wh-what the? How did you-?”  
Frank grinned and pointed the gun at him, “Put your hands in the air.”  
The middle-aged man’s eyes darted back and forth between Gerard and Frank, a look of loathing and disgust creeping onto his face. Angrily, he put his hands behind his head.  
Frank prodded him with the gun and the three of them made their way out of the room and down the stairs. Gerard’s mother and Michelle both screamed when they saw Frank and Gerard pointing their guns - or rather, Frank pointing his gun and Gerard following closely behind, not making eye contact.   
The pastor had been mid speech when they came out of the door. He held up his crucifix, “By the power of God above, I command whatever evil spirits that are in that boy’s body to-.” His voice trailed off and his eyes filled with fear when he saw Frank holding the gun.  
“We’re leaving,” Frank announced, inching his back towards the door, “So if anyone has any problems with that, they can have a discussion with my friend here,” he held up his gun and smiled, then whispered to Gerard, “Come on, we gotta move fast.”  
Gerard stood still, wondering if it was possible to salvage any bit of a connection he had left with his family. Then he looked around him and realized how futile that would be. His mother and Michelle sat huddled on the floor, cowering in fear. His father glared at him with an intense hatred. The people he had lived with for years had turned their backs on him in a matter of seconds. He decided that no, he wouldn’t attempt to apologize for the mess that had been the past few weeks. He had been through hell and they had done nothing to help him - in fact, they had been the direct cause of his pain in many cases.  
Frank was tugging at him from behind, but he decided to give them one last farewell before slipping away, “Oh, and mom? Tell Dr. Solomon I won’t be coming back next Wednesday. Or ever.”  
With that, he slipped out the door with Frank and the two ran as fast as they could in the direction of the forest. Frank yelled with glee, pumping his fists in the air. Gerard didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he did both.

When they reached the parking lot of Our Lady of Sorrows, they were both sweaty and wheezing from running for so long. Gerard wasn’t used to the physical activity, and that paired with the small amount of food he had eaten that day almost made him crash to the ground. Frank leaned him up against the outside of the church’s wall.  
“You okay?”  
“Uh...yeah,” Gerard huffed, a hand on his burning chest. He found it annoyingly ironic - and unfair - that a person with wind powers could get so painfully out of breath.   
“So,” Frank said in between breaths, “Before we go again - I need to ask you something.”  
“Mmm?”  
“When you called me on the phone, you said something about pills and a doctor…?”  
“Oh,” Gerard expression darkened, “I...yeah. That was a thing.”  
“Meaning…”  
“Meaning my parents-” Gerard glared at the ground, forcing himself to reveal what he had kept secret for so long, “my parents made me get conversion therapy because they thought I was gay.”  
“...Conversion therapy?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard nodded his head, “The doctor tried to make me...well...straight.”  
Frank’s face twisted in confusion, “How the hell did he think he could manage that?”  
“Uh-” Gerard’s voice began to break at having to recall the events out loud, “With shock therapy and pills that make me throw up.”  
Frank’s eyes widened, “What? How would that-”  
“He would show me pictures of guys...together. And then he would shock me, or give me something to make me puke.”  
Frank stared in disbelief. His mouth fell open when he made the connection. “Is that why you freaked out when I danced with you?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard said bitterly, “and the stuff I had to take at home was apparently for depression. I still don’t know, but all it did was made we feel worse. I haven’t eaten or slept properly in...I don’t know how long.”  
Frank’s expression was a mix of horror and grief. He put his hands to his head and exclaimed, “Oh my God, Gerard, why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Because! I...I don’t know, it was embarrassing, and...and I was scared.”  
He expected Frank to berate him for being a coward. Instead, his boyfriend wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug, “I’m so sorry.”  
“Frank, you don’t have to apologize, you didn’t do anything-”  
“But on that night when you freaked out, that was my fault!”  
“You didn’t know-”  
Frank pulled back, his sorrow turning to intense anger. “If I had, I would have actually shot your dad.”  
“Frank-”  
“Just in the foot.”  
Gerard sighed, “Well...whatever. Turns out he’s not actually my dad. And my mom and sister, they’re not-” He sighed again. “All you need to know is that they’re done with me in every way. We’re not linked by blood or love or anything, there’s just...there’s nothing left.” That wasn't true. There was still pain and lots of it, but Gerard didn’t feel like talking on the matter any further.  
“We should keep going,” Frank said after a while, “you good to run again?”  
Gerard nodded. The two ran into the woods, and Gerard nearly tripped several times over the roots and bushes of the forest floor. Frank sprinted through the trees with ease - he had spent so much time in the woods that he knew them like the back of his hand.  
When they reached the house, Frank came to a sudden stop. He creaked the door open - it had been left that way - and turned to Gerard, “The chalice is inside. You have to take it yourself.”  
“Where’s everyone else?” The house was the most silent Gerard had ever seen it - he didn’t like it.  
“They’ve all gone to their spots for the ritual,” Frank explained, “It’s fine, just go in and take the chalice from the altar. Only you can do it.”  
“But-” Gerard looked into the house and gulped. All the candles were out, even the large fireplace that had seemed to burn on forever. With the absence of the fires and group members, the place seemed...dead. Gerard wasn’t too keen on telling Frank that the empty house freaked him out, so he took a tentative step inside. Frank stood in the doorway to let the light of the setting sun into the room - other than that, it was completely dark. The dark walls and furniture didn’t help either.  
Gerard took slow steps towards the altar, wincing every time the floorboards creaked. As he got closer, he could see the glow of the ouroboros around the base of the chalice. The engraved serpent was spinning slowly as if it were a real snake. Its blazing white eyes seemed to follow him on it way back around.  
Gerard clenched and unclenched his fists, telling himself to hurry and pick up the damn cup. He could hear Frank tapping his foot impatiently outside, and finally reached out to grab the chalice. For a second, his heart skipped a beat. There was some irrational fear that he wasn’t truly the Drinker - that some horrible mistake had been made, and that he would indeed die a horrible, painful death. Instead, the snake simply faded away, leaving a small circle etched deeply into the altar. Gerard turned and quickly walked out of the house like a scared child running up the stairs of a dark basement.  
Frank smiled widely, “Okay, great. Now all we have to do is say the chant for the final ritual and then you can drink from the chalice.”  
“But-” Gerard hesitated, fear beginning to cloud his mind, “What if...what if it doesn’t work?”  
“Gerard,” Frank said impatiently, “Why wouldn’t it work? You’ve seen what Jormungand could do so far-”  
“But we’ve never done anything this big before!”  
“Well we’re just gonna have to find out.”  
The possibilities of what could go wrong began to plague Gerard. “What if everyone doesn’t do the ritual at the same time, or they forget how to do it, or-”  
“Gerard, worrying about it isn’t going to do anything.”  
“But Frank,” Gerard insisted, “If...if this doesn’t work then...you said it yourself; Dolorosa is full of crazy people. And...and my parents know about my powers and us...and...Frank if they find us…”  
“They’re not going to find us,” Frank said. His voice was full of grave confidence.  
“Frank, we could die.”  
“But they’re - I mean...I know they’re not actually your parents, but still! They raised you, do you actually think they would-”  
“I don’t think even my dad would go that far. He’ll definitely beat the crap out of me if he finds me, but that’s not what I’m worried about. The only other person who knew was our neighbour, but by now, my dad’s probably got the whole block looking for us…”  
“Gerard-”  
“Frank, we’re a same-sex couple that practices magic and worships a pagan god. Do you honestly think they wouldn’t kill us in a heartbeat?”  
For a second, Frank looked almost as nervous as Gerard, but his usual overconfident smiled returned and he tried for humour, “Well then we won’t go down without a fight - we’d die like star-crossed lovers-”  
“Frank, this isn’t funny! And...and what’s gonna happen to my family if I do this?”  
“I don’t know, who gives a fuck after what they did to you?”  
Gerard looked away, “But-”  
“But what?” Frank asked incredulously, “Why is getting some payback so mind-boggling after what you’ve been through? It’s not a riddle - it’s fucking revenge, and they deserve it.”  
Gerard still looked uneasy. His initial elation at running away had been so quickly replaced by his usual fear. Frank grabbed his hands and said, “Listen, Gerard. We’ve only got one chance to do this. One chance to put all this bullshit to an end. Not just for you - for all of us who’ve had to hide who we are from this shitty town. I know this whole thing must be scary as hell...but we’ve already come too far. It has to be this way.”  
“Okay,” Gerard said weakly, “Okay, let’s do this.”  
“Good,” Frank said, “Now keep the chalice in your left hand; you’ll need your right for the chant - but make sure you don’t drop it.”  
Gerard shifted the cup to his other hand, holding up his marked one. Frank grabbed it with his -placing them so that their marks were roughly aligned- and quickly glanced at Gerard’s watch.  
“Okay...when it’s the right time, I’ll start the chant and you repeat after me, okay?”  
“...yeah, okay.”  
Frank waited a few more seconds, staring at the watch. When it was time, he began, “Ri sile, Jormungand.”  
“R..ri sile, Jormungand,” Gerard stammered.  
“Idel rinor akrio supit.” Frank had an elegant way of reciting the chant, flipping his r’s as if he were speaking Italian or Latin.  
“Idel...rinor akiro-”  
“Akrio,” Frank corrected quickly.  
“Right, sorry. I’m just-”  
“Gerard!”  
“A-akrio...supit?” Gerard was having a hard time getting all the sounds down by ear and hoped Frank wasn’t too annoyed.   
“Igam ivan,” Frank continued, “masile totyo.”  
“Igam ivan masile totyo….is...is that it?”  
“Yes,” Frank affirmed, “And if everyone’s done their part,” he looked up and saw Gerard’s worried expression, “Which they all definitely have, then we should be feeling something...soon…”  
“Something meaning…?” Just as Gerard was beginning to get nervous again, he felt a deep, itching pain in his hand, as if someone was digging their nails into the fat of his thumb. Frank felt it too and winced. Their marks flashed - Frank’s red and Gerard’s silver.  
“Okay,” Frank said, pulling his hand away, “That means everyone’s finished saying the chant. And that means…” He looked at the chalice in Gerard’s hand. The blood was beginning to glow Gerard’s signature bright silver. “That means the chalice is ready. You need to drink from it now.”  
“Uhh…” Gerard stared wide-eyed at the cup in his hands. The blood continued to glow brighter until it looked less like melted silver and more like molten gold. It felt hot as well - he could feel the heat seeping out of the chalice into his fingers.   
“Gerard,” Frank said harshly, “You need to do this. RIGHT NOW.”  
“I know,” Gerard replied quickly, “I...I just need a second.”  
“We don’t have time for that!” Frank insisted, “I know I made fun of you for being a coward and I’m sorry for that, but at this very moment, we don’t have time for you to be afraid. You need to let go of your fears and drink from the damn cup.”  
Gerard took a huge, shaky breath. He tried to imagine what would happen if he said no - if he gave up and let Frank down. He’d have no family to go back to except one that wanted him fixed or purified or maybe even dead. No, he thought, remembering Frank’s words, it’s too late to go back - it has to be this way. He opened his eyes again and stared back down at the chalice. It was glowing so brightly it made his eyes hurt. Frank was beginning to get mad. He was hopping up and down and swearing non-stop, but Gerard ignored him. Slowly, he lifted the cup to his lips. As it neared, he could feel its heat. He allowed himself one more deep breath before opening his mouth and tilting his head back, allowing the blood of his friends to wash down into his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I usually don't feel the need to explain the parts of the song that I've incorporated into the story, but the line "shed your yellow" stuck out to me as meaning "shed your cowardice" since yellow is a colour associated with cowardliness. Just...wanted to point that out real quick. 
> 
> 2\. Yooooo my friends and I saw Panic! at the Disco last night. There was shirtlessness, tight leather pants, and backflips galore. I may have almost cried during Death of a Bachelor but...ssshhhh. Speaking of Panic!...watch out for Brendon in the next part....


	17. Our Lady of Sorrows II: Who Put the Words in Your Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan.  
> Like. All of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part gets pretty gory. I mean...idk, I don't think it's that bad, but there are some pretty squeamish people out there.

Our Lady of Sorrows II: Who Put the Words in Your Head

Acid. Gerard had never come into physical contact with an acidic substance before, but his best guess what that this was what it was like - but inconceivably worse. Even after the fact, he would never be able to effectively describe how it felt the moment he drank from the chalice.  
The glowing hot blood burned his tongue and throat on the way down. It had turned from relatively thick blood to a scalding, viscous liquid that slowly and excruciatingly boiled him from the inside. He could feel it inching its way down his esophagus to his stomach, and he thought for a few terrifying moments that he was going to die. He tried to pull his hand away, but he felt as if it were locked into place. He couldn’t even see his hand - the world around him seemed dark and hazy except for the bright liquid pouring into his mouth. His hearing was distorted as well, and he thought he could hear someone screaming. In some far away, barely conscious part of Gerard’s mind, he wondered if he was screaming. No, he thought, if he was screaming, he would be choking as he cleared a passage to make a sound, and the blood was making one continuous trail down his throat. It must have been Frank. He wondered if the process looked as horrible as it felt. He doubted it.  
Soon, Gerard’s eyes began to water, and he felt the deep burning on the sides of his mouth and parts of his chest - some of the blood must have dripped on his face and the front of his shirt. Just when it felt as if the burning couldn’t get any worse, the chalice was emptied. Gerard fell to his knees, weakened by the pain. The chalice rolled away from his limp hand.  
Frank rushed forward and bent down to help him, “Gerard! Are you okay?”  
Gerard blinked hazily. His blurred vision slowly came back into focus, revealing Frank’s concerned expression. Gerard touched his face and winced - the sides of his mouth had blistered, and there were holes in his t-shirt and sweater where the blood had dripped onto them.  
“Where...where is he?” Frank asked, looking around expectantly, “Where’s Jormungand?”  
Gerard’s heart sank into his stomach. For a moment of complete rage and despair, he thought his worried had been correct. He thought they had gone through all of this for nothing and now they would have a mob of close-minded bigots after them. They would have nowhere to go, they’d have to live like outlaws-  
His panicked thoughts were interrupted by a searing pain behind his eyes. He cried out, and his voice was coarse and brittle - a mix of mucus and unswallowed blood churned in the back of his throat. The pain began to spread to his entire head, throbbing and continuous. He put his hands to his head, as if putting external pressure on his skull would relieve the pressure from within.  
At this point, Frank was freaking out. Gerard was only distantly aware of it, but he was screaming at the top of his lungs as his eyes turned silver and began to glow. Frank put his hands on his boyfriend's shoulder and tried to shake him - tried to get some sort of response. Gerard continued to scream, his eyes growing brighter and brighter until Frank had to look away. The light cast by his eyes illuminated the circle of cleared trees around them, casting an eerie glow. Then slowly, the light changed from a silvery-white to a deep gold.  
Frank turned back in surprise. The light was beginning to fade a little - enough that he could look Gerard in the eyes without squinting. “G-Gee, are you okay?”  
Gerard’s eyes flicked towards Frank. He looked confused, as if he had forgotten where he was. Then he winced and put his hands back to his head.  
*YESSSS.*  
Gerard looked around frantically, trying to discern who had spoken. It was a deep, low, hissing voice that sounded as if it hadn’t spoken for millennia. There was something ancient and primal about the voice. It seemed to come from a single point in Gerard’s mind, but it also came from every inch of his surroundings as well.  
“What?” Gerard cried out, “Who...where are you?”  
Frank seemed to materialize out of nowhere again and pulled him closer, “Gerard, who are you talking to? Where’s...where’s Jormungand?”  
The voice began to speak again and Gerard closed his eyes and put his hands back over his ears. It didn’t do much help - the voice spoke from within him, and boomed louder than anything he had ever heard.  
*II AMM...BACK.*  
“What do you want?” Gerard yelled.  
*NNNOTHINGG,* the voice slurred its words slightly, not in a drunken manner, but as if it were used to speaking in a different tongue, *IIIII WANT...NOTHING.*  
“Then...then,” Gerard fought to speak as the pain in his head pulsed harder and harder, “then what...why are you here? Why are you in my head?”  
“Who’s in your head?” Frank asked. His voice was too tiny and distant for Gerard to notice.  
*III WANT THERE TO BE...NOTHING.*  
Gerard froze, “W-what?”  
*THERE WILL BE. NOTHING. LEFT.*  
“What do you mea-”  
*THERE WILL BE NOTHHING FOREVER. NOTHING EXCCCEPT ME.*  
Gerard began to hyperventilate as the pain got worse and worse, far greater than any of the headaches he had gotten from Dr. Solomon’s medication. He wondered frantically what the voice meant, but he was losing the ability to think. The pain was getting worse, and he was losing a grip on his own body.  
*III AM JORMUNGAND,* the voice boomed, *AND YOU ARE MY PROXXXY. AND THROUGH YOU, I WILL CREATE….NOTHHHING.*  
Gerard’s skull felt as if it were being crushed and torn apart at the same time.Then his head cleared suddenly, like coming out of a room full of steam into fresh air. He slowly got to his feet and looked wondrously at his hands. It had been so long since he had been in a physical body...wait...wasn’t this his body? He looked up at Frank in confusion as two realities fought for dominance in his head.  
Frank took a tentative step towards him, “What the fuck was that?”  
Gerard stared at the boy, trying to figure out who he was. This is your worshipper, he thought, your slave. Then another thought - this is your boyfriend. No, this is Gerard’s boyfriend. I am Gerard. You are Gerard.  
“Frank,” he tried the name out, letting it slip out of his mouth, “Everything is fine, Frank.”  
Frank’s brows knit in confusion. Gerard’s voice sounded...weird. It was the same, but slightly...different. He had the same voice, but he said words differently, as if someone else were speaking and just sounded like him.  
“I thought,” Frank started, “I thought Jormungand was supposed to-”  
“Oh,” Gerard said with a blistered smile, “He’s here.” He tapped the side of his head, “He’s right in here.”  
“Uh..” Frank looked like a mix of curiosity and terror, “He’s...he’s in your head?”  
“Yes,” Gerard grinned, “He’s telling me what he wants. He wants nothing.”  
“I don’t…” Frank didn’t know how to respond. Gerard looked so...different. With his blistered lips and the burnt holes in his clothes. That paired with his mess of hair and constantly glowing golden eyes...he looked terrifying. Frank never liked to admit his fear, but if he hadn’t known Gerard, he probably would have run a mile if he saw him wandering through the forest looking like this.  
Gerard ignored the look on Frank’s face and began to assess his hands again. These are my hands, he thought, artist’s hands. These are also Gerard’s hands. Gerard has the fifth element now. Let’s see what he can do. Let’s see what I can do.  
Gerard held his hand up in front of him and concentrated intently. A bright, golden light began to appear, floating just above his palm. In a second, the light turned into a sphere of darkness and shadow. He chuckled to himself and flexed his hand - the shadow dissipated.  
Gerard then turned towards the house, rubbing his hands together in excitement. “This is gonna be good.” He put his feet in a wide stance and faced his palms outwards.  
“What are you gonna do?” Frank asked.  
“Gravity,” Gerard replied simply, “I’m going to turn it off.”  
“...How?”  
“Aether,” Gerard said, as if talking to a slow schoolchild, “The element through which light and gravity travels. As the Serpent...as the Serpent’s Son, I am now in possession of it.”  
Frank heard a creaking sound from the house as Gerard strained from the effort of..whatever he was doing. The creaking became a series of snaps and cracks, and then Frank noticed the ground at the base of the house beginning to lift. The house made one final creak and was suddenly lifted straight up into the air, planks from its foundation snapping and falling away.  
“Hey!” Frank yelled, “What the hell are you doing?”  
Gerard turned to him, smiled, and then thrust his hands towards the sky. The house went flying away, over the tops of the the trees and out of sight. A few seconds later, a distant scream came from the direction where the house landed.  
“Gerard!” Frank screamed, “What the fuck! Why would you do that?” Frank was livid, and would have smacked Gerard across the face in different circumstances. He was just happy no one had been inside at the time. Still...that wouldn’t be enough of a motivation for Gerard to just pick up Frank’s home and toss it into the air, possibly killing someone on the way down.  
“I wonder,” Gerard said, “If the person I hit was one of us? Then I would have killed a witch with a house!” He giggled at the thought. Only half of his mind understood the context of the joke, but it was the other half that actually found it funny. His childish giggle turned into full blown maniacal laughter.  
“GERARD!” Frank couldn’t contain his rage any longer, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”  
“I AM JORMUNGAND!” He yelled back, “Or...I am...I’m Gerard and Jormungand is in my…” He seemed confused for a second, but brushed it off, “Nevermind! I am the Serpent, and I am the Serpent’s Son and you will not speak to me in that way.”  
With that, Gerard turned and sprinted into the trees in the direction of his house.  
“Wait!” Frank called, running after him, “Where are you going?”  
“I am finding my home,” Gerard said, his old clumsiness replaced by grace and easiness of breath while running, “My cleansing will start with those who have wronged me.”  
“Gerard wait, something's wrong with this!”  
Gerard ignored him. Frank had always been faster than Gerard, but now it was Frank who fought to keep up the pace. Gerard sped ahead, breaking through the last line of trees in the forest and sprinting across the parking lot of Our Lady of Sorrows. Frank reached out his hand for Gerard, who was becoming a spec at the end of Frank’s vision. He reached an intersection in the road, turned the corner, and was gone. 

When Frank finally caught up to Gerard, he was sprinting down the street of his house. The street lights flickered and went out when he passed. It was still evening, but the skies overhead seemed to darken with his presence. Gerard stopped at his house and Frank stumbled to his side, out of breath and sweating. He put his hands on his knees to steady himself.  
“Gerard,” Frank huffed, “What...what are you doing?”  
Gerard was completely ignoring him. He stood still in front of the curb while the soft wind dramatically tussled his hair. He was staring intently at one of the front windows of his house. Inside, his mother was holding his sister, and they were both looking worriedly out the window. They had already seen his glowing eyes but now he had burns on his face and a terrifying look of apathetic superiority. He was no longer a scared and defiant little boy, but a powerful deity who saw mortals as no more than insects to be toyed with.  
His mother yelled something at him but it was muffled by the window. Michelle buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and began to cry.  
“You!” Gerard cried in his still gravely voice. He pointed an accusatory finger at them, “You cast me out! You abandoned me!”  
Frank reached out a hand to touch Gerard’s shoulder, “Gerard-”  
“No!” Gerard whipped his head towards Frank and shot his hand out. Frank found himself falling to his knees, as if a great weight was being put onto him. Or no...he was being pulled down. He collapsed to the floor, finding it hard to breath as his lungs began to compress from the increased gravity. Gerard released his grip and gave Frank a menacing glare that said, I can do much worse than that. Frank stayed on the ground.  
Gerard turned back to the house and prepared to begin yelling the list of his family’s crimes, but he was interrupted by a yell from behind Frank.  
“Hey!”  
He turned to see that his father had in fact massed a search party to go find him. Except these people were armed with torches, pitchforks and shotguns. At first, they looked menacing, but when they saw Gerard’s glowing eyes, a few of them began to cower.  
Gerard observed the angry mass and began to laugh, “What did you come here to do? Kill me?” He stared directly at his dad, “You poor excuse for a surrogate father. You failed to tame me before. Did you really think you had the power to tame me now? When I’m like this?” Gerard spread his arms, daring any one of them to question his authority.  
His father knit his brows and lowered the shotgun he had acquired from a neighbour, “Now listen, I don’t know what has happened to you, son-”  
“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO CALL ME THAT!” Gerard screamed, spittle flying from his mouth, “I have found a new father!,” he took a step forward, “a better father! And we are one!”  
“Stay back!” His dad warned, raising the shotgun again.  
“And he will make sure you pay for your crimes!” Gerard continued, walking directly towards the barrel of the gun.  
“Gerard-!” His dad warned again. Gerard continued walking towards him, yelling about atonement for past transgressions. The crowd began to yell along with his father and after a moment of chaos, a gunshot was heard.  
Frank’s breathing stopped. He turned sharply to Gerard, but could not see his face from behind. Gerard staggered backwards and fell to the ground, revealing his father, frozen in fear. Tears build up in Frank’s eyes as he locked them with Gerard’s dad’s, who could only stare back in a mix of horror and shame. Frank was about to get up and let loose a rampage of cursing and flames, but then he saw Gerard’s hand twitch.  
Everyone gasped and took a step backwards - the bullet had hit him right in the centre of the chest. Enough of his heart should have been damaged - he should have died on the spot. Instead, he slowly began to sit up, his eyes only growing brighter. He reached his hand up to his chest and began to dig his fingers into the bleeding hole. The crowd gasped in horror as he fished the bullet out and flicked it away with a smirk as if nothing had happened. He got to his feet and everyone took another terrified step back.  
“G-Gerard-?” Frank called from behind. He felt as if his brain had shut off - he had no idea how to react to his current surroundings. Only moments ago, he thought his boyfriend had been killed, which would have left him to fend for himself against the angry mob of people. On the other hand, his boyfriend was also possessed and had just pulled a bullet out of his beating heart.  
“Hush,” Gerard said, holding his hand out behind him in a motion that told Frank to shut up. A wide smile spread across Gerard’s face and some of his blisters began to pop, oozing puss and blood. “You,” He said, addressing his father, “You just tried to kill me.” He spoke like a parent playfully chastising their child.  
“I...I,” His father began to tremble and dropped his gun, sinking to his knees, “I’m sorry, I-I...I-”  
“Didn’t mean to?” Gerard asked, his smile becoming harsh and forced, “Is that what you were going to say? Because that’s what you always say! It’s what you always said!” He shot his hands out at his father and little orbs of light began to radiate from his fingertips. They floated towards Gerard’s dad, and before he had a chance to avoid them, they stuck themselves into the flesh on his face. Gerard’s father screamed out in pain as the spheres of light began to burn away at his face, the swathes of boiling skin seeming to melt. Soon, the flesh began to drip down over his mouth and nose, almost completely stopping him from breathing, save a few tiny holes. The crowd began to scream and panic, all of them running in different directions as Gerard’s father fell to the ground and thrashed for air. He frantically made his way to the house on all fours, where Michelle and her mother had been screaming the entire time. They quickly opened the door to let him in, then shut it immediately.  
“Gerard!” Frank said, finally regaining the ability to speak, “What the hell was that? What are you doing?”  
Gerard laughed, “What did you think was going to happen, you foolish boy? What did you think the ‘cleansing’ you had always dreamed of would be like?”  
Frank clenched his fists, realizing with anger that Gerard was right - he had spent so long dreaming of some wonderful far off day without really putting much thought into the details. He had guessed that in some naive, childish way, he expected Jormungand to just come and make everything...better. That all the horrible people would be forced to go somewhere else so that everyone else could live in acceptance and peace.  
Gerard seemed to read his mind and laughed even harder, “Did you think it would be like some sort of Biblical Judgement Day where I would come down to judge the wicked and reward the wronged? Only I have been wronged! And only I will get my revenge!” Gerard turned back to his house and flexed his fingers. “Look, Frankie,” he snarled the nickname, “let me show you what my judgement looks like.”  
Gerard reached his arms out towards the house and made claws, slowly twisting them into fists. From inside, he could hear yelling and glass breaking as the lights in the house shattered and went out. Gerard then began to push one open hand forwards while pulling the other slowly back. Darkness seemed to materialize once again from his hands. The black cloud began to seep into the house under the door and through tiny holes between the windows and walls. In a matter of seconds, the entire house was full of the dark stuff. Frank couldn’t see inside, but he guessed it wasn’t poisonous - from the continued shouts and screams, Gerard’s family was still very much alive.  
Gerard reached his hands up to face the roof, then began to slowly pull them downwards. With them the house began to crumble, like a force was dragging it grudgingly to the ground. Frank’s eyes shot wide open when he realized what Gerard was about to do.  
“Gerard-” He took a step forward.  
“Silence,” Gerard spat harshly, “If you make any attempts to stop me, any attempts at all,” He turned to stare at Frank, affirming once and for all, whatever this strange fusion of man and god was, Gerard was definitely not in control, “I will crush your lungs and set your skin ablaze with the very flames you think you control.”  
Frank stared back in terror. He found himself unable to move and could only stare, frozen in fear as the next events unraveled.  
Gerard continued to drag his hands down, the second floor of the house now completely destroyed. As the first floor began to crumble, Frank saw the front door nudging ever so slightly. It wedged open and he could she Michelle trying desperately to open it - but the the top of the house was weighing down on it so much that it would barely budge. They locked eyes for a moment, and Michelle sobbed at him to do something.  
“Help us!” She cried, reaching her arm out through the open space, “Stop him, please, I don’t want to di-”  
Gerard thrust his hands to the ground and the house crumbled with a crash, sending fragments flying out around them. Frank crouched and covered his face with his arms. When the cloud of rubble cleared, Frank could see something moving in the decimated pile of what used to be Gerard’s home. He peered closer and a tear rolled down his cheek when he realized what it was. At the very front of the wreckage, poking out of some wood and brick, was the bloodied and twitching arm of a young girl. After a few torturous seconds, it went limp.  
Frank lurched forward and vomited. As he wiped his mouth, he looked up at Gerard, who had begun to laugh again, his shoulders shaking violently as the broken, hoarse sound crawled out of his mouth.  
Frank began to shuffle away, using Gerard’s turned back as an opportunity to run as fast as he could in the direction of the forest. The plan had been for the Band to regroup at their house. Frank didn’t know if they would stay there when they found that their house was gone, but it was his best chance.  
If anyone could fix this, it was Ray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. So yes, I may have pulled some inspiration for Jormungand's message from a Welcome to Night Vale episode. If you don't know what that is, close this tab right now and go check it out. It's awesome.
> 
> 2\. Happy Birthday to the wonderful and talented sweetheart, Raymond Toro. Sorry for putting you and your friends through such shit in my fanfiction. But not really.


	18. Our Lady of Sorrows III: Laceration Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I simultaneously add in and kill off a character in one sentence.  
> Enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the bodies hit the floor.

Our Lady of Sorrows III: Laceration Gravity 

“Where the fuck are they?” One of the members asked, tapping his foot impatiently. Ray looked up from the jagged rectangular mess of soil, concrete, and wood where the house used to be. Upon finding it, he had crouched down at its edge, trying to figure out what had happened.  
“I...I don’t know, Brendon,” Ray said distantly. He hated not knowing. It had always been his job to know exactly what would happen and exactly what to do so that his friends wouldn’t have to worry about anything. The only thing worse than their house seeming to pick and leave was the absence of Frank and Gerard. Immediately after performing their ends of the ritual, Ray and half a dozen others came racing back to the meetup spot, only to find that the most important person - and their house - was nowhere to be found.  
“Godammit,” Ray said angrily, getting to his feet, “I shouldn’t have asked so much of Gerard. They might be in danger-”  
“In danger of what?” Brendon asked.  
“I…” Ray sighed, “I don’t know. They’re supposed to be here and...I just have a bad feeling about this.”  
Suddenly, Frank came sprinting through the trees, panting and out of breath.  
“Ray!” He called, nearly tripping over himself as he came to a halt, “Ray, oh my God, everything’s gone to shit.”  
“Frank!” Ray exclaimed, pushing his way past the others who had begun to crowd around Frank, “Are you alright? Where’s Gerard? Where’s Jormungand?”  
“He’s fucking insane!” Frank exclaimed, “He’s...he’s different, he’s not Gerard.”  
Ray knit his brows in confusion. “What are you talking about?”  
“He’s...he....” Frank began to hyperventilate as tears formed in his eyes, “Oh my God, Ray, he killed his family.” At this, the crowd of gathered Band members went silent.  
“...What?” Ray asked.  
Frank took a deep breath and tried to continue without his voice breaking, “When Jormungand came he...he I don’t know, he possessed Gerard or something.”  
“WHAT?” Ray yelled, taking Frank by the shoulders, “Jormungand is-”  
“In Gerard’s head,” Frank affirmed, “It’s like...it’s like the only part of Gerard that actually had any power was his anger at his family, but everything else is Jormungand, Gerard would never….he would never-” Frank shook his head, trying to clear the memory of Michelle’s lifeless arm lying amongst the rubble of the destroyed house.  
Ray took a shaky breath, putting a hand to his curly hair, “This isn’t good, Frank, this is very bad.”  
“No shit it’s bad!” Frank yelled.  
“No,” Ray said, “You don’t understand. Gerard could-”  
“What the fuck happened to the house?” Everyone turned to look at Bob, who had returned from his spot.”  
“Gerard happened,” Frank said, then quickly chose to revise his words, “I mean - no, it was Jormungand who-”  
“Oh, Gerard!” Bob yelled clenching his fists, “I was about to bring that up.”  
Frank paused, “...Have...have you seen him?”  
“Seen him? He’s destroying the town! And it’s not just the bible-thumpers, he got-” Bob stopped, nearly choking on his words, “He’s killing everyone - including us. I don’t know who else he got, but....Ryan’s gone.”  
A hush went through the group of guys and Frank’s eyes began to water. None of them knew how horrible it was. Only he and Bob had seen how Gerard hurt people, and imagining it happening to his friend Ryan...It was too much. Frank locked his jaw, willing himself not to cry. Brendon, however, made no attempts to hide his grief. It was pretty well known to everyone that Brendon and Ryan had been an item.  
“Fuck,” Ray spat, receiving surprised looks from his friends - if Ray was swearing, shit had definitely hit the fan. “Everything….everything we’ve done, it all just-” He looked away, unable to face the friends he had let down, “This isn’t...dammit, this isn’t the way it was supposed to be!”  
“And what was this supposed to be?” Frank asked, remembering Gerard’s biting words, “A magical happy ever after? Ray, we never even stopped to think about what we were actually doing!”  
“But-” Ray’s lip quivered as if he were about to cry, “This...this was supposed to make everything better. For all of us.”  
“Well it didn’t,” Frank replied bitterly, “It made everything a lot worse.”  
Ray took a deep breath, “I know. This is my fault - and I’m going to fix it, I promise.”  
“How in hell are you going to fix this?” Came Brendon’s broken voice. His eyes were red from crying.  
“I-” Ray had to avert his eyes from Brendon’s angry gaze, “I can’t bring back who we’ve lost, but I think I can stop this from going any further.”  
Frank looked up, “How?”  
“I’m going to see if I can get Jormungand out of Gerard. If I’m going to do it, I need to do it quickly. I don’t know how much longer Gerard has-”  
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Bob questioned, “How about how much longer we have?”  
“Bob!” Ray said through gritted teeth, “We’re not the only ones in danger. I know you’re angry, but Gerard isn’t the one in control. He’s more like...a vessel. If he really killed his own family....then Jormungand must be conflating his need for revenge with Gerard’s pent up anger. All that raw power and energy will be too much for Gerard’s body, and he might-” Ray interrupted himself, trying once again to undo everything through regret, “Oh God, Frank, I swear it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Jormungand wasn’t supposed to actually take his body-”  
“He might what?” Frank demanded.  
Ray sighed. “If Gerard’s body is too weak to contain the power of a primordial deity - which it almost certainly is - then Jormungand will literally tear Gerard to pieces as he regains more of his power. He may be an immortal for now, but he’s still very capable of dying.”  
Everyone was silent for a few seconds until Frank finally asked, “How do we get Jormungand out of him?”  
“It’s ah,” Ray put a hand to his forehead, trying to remember, “It’s this old exorcism spell I once read about. I would get the book it’s in, but seeing as our house has taken a leave of absence,” he gestured to where their house once stood, letting the empty space speak for him, “I’ll have to do it from memory. I don’t have it all memorized, but I know enough of the language it’s in to peice it together...I think.”  
“You think?” Frank asked desperately, “You gotta do better than that!”  
“Okay,” Ray said, scrunching up his face as he tried to recall the words, remembering that his actions would decide the fate of all his friends “Yes, I know I can do it.” He looked up, his eyes full of determination, “I’m going to need the chalice.”  
Frank ran over to where Gerard had left it, picked it up and handed it to Ray.  
“And I’m going to need someone to come with me. Someone will need to hold Gerard down while I say the chant,” Ray said, addressed the group. Frank immediately stepped forward, though he didn’t have much competition. None of the others seemed very willing to face Gerard after what they had seen and heard. “Are you sure?” Ray asked, “If...if I don’t do this properly, you may not come out of this alive.”  
“Gerard joined because of me,” Frank said, “I’m closest to him out of all of us. If anyone should face him, it should be me - and anyways, the way I see it, we’re all fucked anyway.”  
“Well,” Ray mused, “Not necessarily. Bob, if you can steal a boat from the dock - big enough for us and maybe a few more if you find any survivors - you guys can escape to a neighbouring island.”  
“What?” Bob’s eyes went wide, “We can’t leave without you!”  
“I think it’s best for us to leave this town anyway,” Ray said, “We’ll go try and perform the chant, and if it takes us too long, then...you’ll know you can go.”  
“But-” Bob protested.  
“No buts,” Ray held up his hand, “The responsibility for most of this rests on my shoulders. I owe it to all of you, and especially Gerard. He had no idea what he was getting into. I promise you - all of you - I’m going to fix what we’ve done.”

Gerard floated above the chaotic streets, watching with amusement as the mortals below screamed and ran. Look at these ants, one part of his brain said, these puny mortals who think their lives are of any significance. Look at these people, the other half said, who judged and ridiculed me for years. Somewhere else in his mind, far and locked away, was a voice screaming desperately to stop what he was doing - but that voice was easily blocked out by the immense pleasure of imposing dominion over weaker beings.  
He made his way over the town, incinerating a line of shops in explosions of bright lights. A smile came across his face when he recognized one of the buildings below. It was a doctor’s office - a very specific doctor’s office. He decided to burn that one slowly, melting the doors together so that no one inside could escape the inferno. In the middle of the street, he opened up rift from which tendrils of pure shadow reached up and grabbed people, pulling them inside. Those who were lucky enough to escape the pit found themselves unaffected by gravity and floated away screaming and clutching at the air, only to be slammed back down to the earth at terminal velocity. Their bodies popped and cracked like little bags of sticks and fluid.

When Ray and Frank found Gerard, it looked like all Hell had been let loose - literally. The chaotic landscape of death and destruction was worse than any nightmares either one of their minds could ever cook up.  
“Oh my God,” Frank whispered, flinching every time a person was set ablaze or hurled into the air.  
Ray put a hand on his shoulder, the other kept behind his back to hide the chalice, “It’s not him, Frank.”  
“I know, but...it’s his voice and his body.” Frank looked up at the demonic looking madman floating in the sky. It seemed almost impossible that this was the same mild-mannered kid he had flirted with all those Friday’s ago. With so much of his weight lost, the blisters and the glowing eyes, he looked nothing like the chubby and innocent boy Frank had first met. He knew somewhere deep down, he would probably never get him back. Even if this worked, the scars it would leave on Gerard’s mind would ruin any hope of his past innocence returning - but a scarred, broken Gerard was better than a heartless, malevolent one. He took a few steps forward and readied himself for what needed to be done.  
Frank cupped his hands together and hoped for the world’s sake that Ray’s plan would work. “Gerard! Hey, Gerard!”  
Gerard froze, turned towards him and slowly descended. His golden eyes would have looked beautiful against the pink-orange sky had it not been for the evil nature that came with them.  
“Frank,” Gerard replied, “and Ray. My...friends.” He smiled in amusement at the last part.  
“Gerard,” Frank said desperately as he took a careful step forward, “I need to talk to you.”  
Gerard squinted suspiciously, the lights becoming two slits, “What could you possibly have to tell me that is of any importance?”  
“I...I was going to ask,” Frank gulped, “If you would consider...sparing the two of us from your ah...vengeance.”  
“You ask for mercy?” Gerard asked, as if the word confused him.  
“Y-yes,” Frank affirmed, trying to keep his trembling to minimal levels, “We know that we are both lowly and..” Frank tried to think of the right wording, “and...unworthy of your...ah…”  
“Leniency?” Gerard offered.  
“Yes!” Frank said, daring to take another step forward, “But...we believe that we could be of use to you in your, um...cleansing, and that we could...seek revenge by your side in exchange for our lives.” Frank wanted to turn around for Ray’s approval, but he kept his eyes respectfully locked with Gerard’s. Respectful was sometimes difficult for Frank, but in this case, his only option was to suck it up.  
“Hmm…” Gerard pondered, “I suppose...I think I recall...having feelings of...affection for you.”  
“Yes!” Frank took a step closer, “You do!” Gerard frowned at this and Frank quickly tried to turn the statement into more grovelling, “Because as your servant, I’ve always received more...ahh grace than people who reject and shun you.” At this point, Frank didn’t know if he was speaking more to Gerard or Jormungand, but he figured a mix of both was best for now.  
“Yes,” Gerard mused, “I suppose that makes sense.” This time he took a step closer, “And I suppose that you could be of...other use to me as well.”  
“..Other use?”  
“I’ve forgotten the pleasures of taking physical form,” Gerard smiled wickedly, “I’m sure there are many things you could do to make my time here more enjoyable.”  
Frank almost wanted to vomit. This type of flirting - completely cold and inconsiderate of the other person’s emotions - was so un-Gerard that it made Frank want to recoil in disgust. Instead, he came closer, forcing himself to put his hands up and hold Gerard’s blistered face, “I can do whatever you want,” he said, wondering if this was more awkward for him or for Ray.  
Gerard grinned and passed his tongue over his small teeth, “Yes you will.”  
“B-because,” Frank said, daring himself to change the direction of the conversation, “because I care about you, Gee. I care about you so fucking much.”  
Gerard froze, his expression turning from overconfidence to that of a person completely caught off guard, “G-Gee?”  
“Yes,” Frank said, “That was my nickname for you, remember?”  
“My...nickname?” Gerard looked confused, and Frank guessed that was a good sign.  
“We have dumb names that we call each other,” Frank began stroking Gerard’s cheek and spoke in a calm voice, “Your’s was Gee, and mine was Frankie.”  
At this, Gerard’s eyes flickered, first on and off and then between silver and gold. Finally, his eyes rested on silver. “Frankie?” He asked, not as if he were remembering the name, but remembering the person. He stared at Frank as if seeing him for the first time in years. For a second, his voice had some of its old innocent uncertainty - it was the way he sounded when he was scared, confused or flustered. It broke Frank’s heart.  
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’m the one that got you into this mess.” He leaned in and kissed Gerard softly on his scarred, bleeding cheek, then promptly wrapped his hands around Gerard’s throat.  
“RAY, NOW!” Frank screamed, shoving forward and pushing Gerard to the ground. He winced as Gerard’s head hit the hard pavement, but he didn’t let go. Gerard stared up at him, first in fear and then in anger as his eyes began to flicker gold again. “Rayyyyyy-” Frank called, struggling to hold Gerard down as he thrashed and clawed at his neck.  
Ray surged forward, landing on his knees beside Gerard. He took a few quick breaths, shaking his hands as he struggled to remember the foreign words. “F-f’koulam...um...f’koulam silpit-”  
“Ray, hurry up!” Frank said, dodging a swat from Gerard.  
“Right, sorry,” Ray apologized, banging a hand to his forehead, “Uh, f’koulam silpit hiritoth, exi...exi anordel begamonor.”  
At this, Gerard’s eyes shot wide open and he screamed out in pain - as much as he could with his throat restricted.  
“How much is this going to hurt him?” Frank asked, beginning to get worried for what would happen if they did succeed.  
Ray didn’t respond, and continued trying to remember the chant. “Hisile bodel belamonor, g-gam...gamsil…uhh...”  
“RAY!”  
“-gamsil t’ho fakritoth!”  
Gerard screamed and rolled Frank off of him, but only had enough strength to crawl a few feet away on his hands and knees. Frank followed, making sure Gerard never rose to his feet.  
“Ray, keep saying the chant!”  
Ray nodded and began to repeat the words, filled with a new confidence and urgency, “F’koulam silpit hiritoth, exi anordel begamonor.”  
Gerard began to sweat profusely, his skin hissing as if the liquid burned him. His leaned his head down and scratched at the pavement until his fingernails bled, but Frank kept him from getting up.  
“Hisile bodel belamonor, gamsil t’ho fakritoth!”  
Gerard began to shake and gag. Ray knelt in front of him and held the chalice beneath his mouth, holding his head down towards it. He said the chant one last time, wincing at Gerard’s tortured moans.  
“F’koulam silpit hirtitoth, exi anodel bagamonor. Hisile bodel belamonor, gamsil t’ho fakritoth!”  
Gerard’s gags turned into full out vomiting and he began to cough up the blazing blood that had been churning in his stomach. Little by little, he puked up spurts of the glowing golden fluid into the chalice, shaking from the painful contact with his throat. When it was all gone, his eyes went from gold to silver, and then faded back to their natural brown. He slumped down in Frank’s arms and began to sob uncontrollably.  
“G-Gerard?” Frank said, shaking Gerard gently, “Gerard, are you okay?”  
Gerard responded with incoherent whimpers and refused to lift his head up. Frank looked up at Ray, who was staring at the chalice solemnly.  
“He’s back,” Ray said, “He’s definitely not okay, but he’s back.”  
Frank wanted to cradle Gerard in his arms, but he had one last part to play for their plan to be complete. Slowly, he wedged Gerard off of him, allowing Ray to kneel down and take his place as Gerard’s source of comfort. He took the chalice from Ray’s hands and held it in his own. Frank looked at the chalice in disgust, not because of the regurgitated blood, but because of the misery it had caused. For years, Frank had seen it as the key to his freedom. Now, he was sure he never wanted to see it again. With a bitter expression on his face, he set the chalice ablaze and placed it on the ground. It began to crackle and pop as the chalice melted and the blood boiled and evaporated. It may have simply been the sound of the burning cup, but Frank could have sworn he heard the hiss of a snake as Jormungand’s soul was sent back to whatever hellish plane of existence it had come from.

The few members left in the Band of the Serpent's Son stood on the rocky beach beside the pier. Less than half of the group stood together, loading what little supplies they could salvage in a short amount of time onto the small boat Bob had stolen. Jormungand may have been gone, but the people left alive on Dolorosa didn’t know that, and no one wanted to wait around for people to find them harboring the body he had inhabited.  
The group members who had stayed worked quickly and solemnly, being the lucky ones who had managed to escape Jormungand’s wrath. The rest of the survivors had simply left in anger, not believing or caring that Gerard and Jormungand were two separate entities. Surprisingly, Brendon was one of the few who had chosen to stay. Though his loss was great, he had gotten to know Gerard in his time with the group. Forgiveness wasn’t quite the appropriate word for the situation. It would be with time, but for now, it was an unspoken understanding. Gerard was sorry beyond words, and Brendon understood that it had been out of Gerard’s control. Still, the two didn’t speak to each other as the group loaded their things.  
Frank led Gerard onto the boat as soon as everyone was finished. Still recovering, Gerard was semi-lost in a world of grief, barely able to look even Frank in the eyes for more than a few moments without tearing up and staring back at the ground. As the boat began to drift away from the shore, Gerard noticed that Bob’s mark was glowing blue - he was navigating the waters through his link. Ray caught his gaze and explained to the group, “When Frank burned Jormungand’s chalice, the blood was destroyed. We didn’t kill Jormungand - it would have taken us a lot more than that - but we sent him back to wherever he was imprisoned before we freed him. In other words, he’s in the same state he was when we evoked power from him before, so we can continue evoking power from him now.”  
Gerard looked up from Frank’s shoulder, finally daring to speak after the ages of silence, “Why would you want to do that?” His voice was hoarse and full of sorrow, “How can you manage to have anything to do with Jormungand after...after everything that’s happened?” The passengers in the boat turned to look at Gerard, most of them murmuring in agreement.  
“Think of it as revenge,” Frank said bitterly, “For everything he’s done. We’ll just be stealing power from him without really serving him.” A couple others found this more satisfying and nodded their approval.  
Gerard’s eyes went back down to the floor of the boat, and he muttered, “I think I’ve had enough revenge for one lifetime.” He leaned his head back down onto Frank’s shoulder.  
“So,” Brendon said after a moment of silence, “Isn’t life on whatever new island we get to still going to be dangerous? We don’t have enough money to leave Salem Novus, and if people begin to recognize us-”  
“I think we’re okay, at least in that regard,” Frank said, “It’s not like we’re celebrities - we were already nobodies on Dolorosa, and now we’re in smaller numbers. Besides,” he looked out at the shrinking island of Dolorosa, which seemed to be melting under the orange and purple skies of the setting sun. Even from far away, Frank could see the steeple of Our Lady of Sorrows still burning and slowly crumbling to the ground, “it doesn’t look like a lot of people are gonna be left to tell the tale.”

END OF SONG II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you guys liking it so far? Do you hate me yet? Are you ready for what comes next? Did MCRX kill you as much as it killed me? Leave your frenzied comments below.


	19. House of Wolves I: I’ll Be Granting Your Permission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a stormy night, a secret cult meets to plan their forbidden tasks. Two separated stories intertwine once more and the end of one song merges with the beginning of another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look out for the patterns in the chanting.

House of Wolves I: I’ll Be Granting Your Permission 

The Sisterhood of the House of Wolves gathered in the small living room of their leader’s cozy house, which was nestled deep in the woods of Isla Cura, the closest neighbouring island to Dolorosa. The recently formed House of Wolves met almost every evening to discuss their plans for the future, barely touching upon the forbidden rituals that would inevitably come later in their meetings. There had been some initiatory chanting, but other than that, they left the bulk of the dark practices to their leader. The young girls whispered and chatted to each other in excitement as the aura of the dark, candle-lit room began to seep in. The light of the small fireplace they sat cross-legged around cast almost demonic shadows on each of their faces. The storm raging outside only contributed to the eerie atmosphere.  
Their leader finally descended from her bedroom holding a cream white cloth. She wordlessly walked over to the small coffee table in front of the fireplace and laid the cloth out on top of it. On the cloth were five black dots on the circumference of a circle.  
“This cloth will keep tally of the tasks we need to complete,” she said in a confident voice to the girls around her, “No one is permitted to touch this cloth without my permission, is that understood?”  
The girls nodded. An excited smile spread across their leader’s face, and she dropped the archaic tone. “Let’s get this shit started.”  
The leader sat in the space left for her in the circle. The girls closed in around the coffee table, the only one exempt from the ritual ready with a pen and notepad. The girls joined hands and began to chant the words they had committed to flawless memory:

“Sillo rivan yon pitlaman  
Inori, gamrit a ves.  
Necruvan disertian,  
Iset, Sillon, Iset, Neves.”

The girls continued to recite the chant, their unified voices building as the thrill of performing blasphemous rites filled them with defiant power. Suddenly, their leader took a deep, sharp breath. The girls stopped chanting out of concern. They gasped when their leader’s eyes rolled back into her head. She spoke in a low voice, this time in English:

“The man who killed the Virgin still walks upright, holy, and well.  
To gain my favour, you must turn his heaven into hell.  
When the fiery deed is done, the Liar must see his wraith,  
Then call down upon the pious a plague of bad faith.  
Revert the wine to it’s original state - on God’s walls it will smear.  
The last and final task requires His angels to quake in fear.” 

The leader took a deep, gasping breath as she was released from her trance. She brushed off the concern of her friends, looking over to the elected stenographer, who was furiously jotting down what she had heard.  
“Got that, Jen?” Their leader asked. Jen gave her a thumbs up.  
“But-” one of the girls asked, “What did all of that mean? This is all stuff we have to do right? All of that basically sounded impossible!”  
A few other girls chimed in their agreement, but their leader held up her hands to silence them, “Don’t worry girls, we just need to take this one step at a time. From what I’ve read, there’s no one way to interpret prophecies; you have to make them come true in a way that fits your circumstances.”  
“So we have to figure out all the metaphors and shit?” one girl asked, “When did this turn into a poetry analysis class?”  
Their leader was about to give a sharp reply when a loud knocking came to her front door. The girls turned unanimously to look at it, and the room went silent. Their leader slowly got up, eyeing the door suspiciously.  
“Who the fuck-?” She wondered aloud. She had chosen her girls carefully. Even the most ditzy among them valued their Sisterhood too much to reveal their meeting location, and she never ever got visitors. She quickly unsheathed the knife she kept strapped to her thigh, hiding it behind her back as she slowly opened the door. She immediately dropped the knife out of shock when she saw who was on the other side. Soaking wet and tightly clutching on to their sagging, black hoodies, were Frank, Ray, and….some kid she had never seen before.  
She gave Ray a quick, puzzled look. It was hard to decipher his facial expressions, since most of his usually nimbus-like hair had sopped down into his face thanks to the rain. She gave the new kid a brief glance, but her eyes finally came down to rest on Frank, who looked up at her with a mix of guilt and contempt.  
She gave him a bitter smile after regaining her composure, “Well, look who we have here. Hello there, little brother. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”  
Frank narrowed his eyes, “Yeah, hi.” He half-turned to Gerard, who was wide-eyed in confusion, “Gerard, this is my sister - Lindsey.”

Gerard stared at Lindsey in surprise, who quickly bent down to pick up the blade she had dropped, re-sheathing it. He studied her, trying to determine what to make of Frank’s sister. She looked older than them, maybe by a year or two. She had Frank’s pale skin, hazel eyes, and dark hair, which she kept long and in two pigtails. The hairstyle paired with the blood red lipstick, black vest, plaid skirt, worn fishnets, tattoos, and combat boots - not to mention the dagger at her side - made her look like a terrifyingly hot school girl. Somehow, Gerard didn’t find it hard to believe that she was related to Frank.  
She seemed to be studying him too, but only for a second. Her attention immediately turned back to her little brother, who had been unhappy about the idea of coming to see her the second Ray proposed it.  
“You look older,” Frank finally said in a low voice.  
Lindsey smirked. “And you look shorter.” She looked back up at Ray and Gerard, who were glancing at each other nervously through the sibling tension, “Well you guys might as well come on in. I don’t know why the hell you’re here, but I don’t want you catching a cold while you explain.”  
She stepped back and let them in, not even attempting to hide the cult meeting the boys had interrupted. The three of them stared in embarrassment at the girls they didn’t know had been there, while the girls stared right back.  
“Well,” Lindsey said, smiling at their awkwardness, “Make yourselves comfortable - but don’t touch the fabric on the coffee table. I’ll go make you some tea.” Lindsey disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the boys to face the Sisterhood.  
After a moment of extremely uncomfortable silence, a few of the girls gingerly began to make space for the new arrivals, grimacing as they plopped down beside them, rainwater dripping from their bodies into Lindey’s rug. Lindsey returned with three mugs, carefully handed them to the boys, and sat cross-legged next to them.  
“So,” she said, “I think I’m owed an explanation.”  
As Ray began to recount recent events, Gerard tried to lose himself in looking around at Lindey’s house. He wasn’t very eager to relive what Ray was retelling, so he was very grateful for the distraction. It was a small two-storey house, with the front door leading right into the living room, in which there were two couches in front of a small fireplace, a doorway to the kitchen parallel to the front door, and stairs to the second floor left of and adjacent to the kitchen doorway. The living room was full of candles and burning incense - it smelled like a New Age healing spa. The room was bereft of a television or radio, the only technology present being a record player and an electric bass, both shoved into the corner to make space for the meeting.  
“We did the final ritual a couple weeks ago,” Ray continued, nearing the part of the conversation Gerard definitely wanted to block out.  
Lindsey raised an eyebrow, ignoring the confused looks of the girls around her, who listened to Ray’s story respectfully, but without any background context with which to understand it.  
“Gerard was the Drinker,” Ray said, nodding to Gerard, who seemed to be trying to sink into the floor, “He joined around the beginning of summer.”  
Lindsey gave Gerard another quick glance. “So…” she said, “I’m gonna take a wild guess here and say things didn’t turn out the way you planned.”  
Frank sneered, “well aren’t you a smart cookie?”  
Lindsey returned a fake smile, “I saw some pretty whacked up footage on the news...I mean, I couldn’t really hear much, cause it was on a TV in a bar. But I saw the headline: ‘Massive Attack on Small American Island of Dolorosa’. They’re trying to spin it as some kind of action from a militant anti-Christian group. They’re calling it. ‘The Dolorosa Attack.’”  
“Wait,” Frank interjected, “you thought we were under attack? And what, you just sat here not worrying if we were okay?”  
Lindsey rolled her eyes, “Of course I was worried, numbnuts, but I’m not stupid. I saw enough of the wreckage to know that no mundane militia or terrorist group could achieve that kind of destruction. I could tell from first glance it was the work of a ritual, even with the shitty news camera quality. I knew you guys had fucked up. You know...like I said-”  
“If you say I told you so,” Frank said, “I swear to God-”  
“We don’t speak of Him in this house,” Lindsey returned evenly, “and I’m guessing you’re not swearing to Jormungand either anymore, considering you haven’t come here with a primordial snake to cleanse Salem Novus. So what happened when little Gerard here drank the blood? Let me guess, your wonderful world serpent went batshit crazy? What I’m interested in is how you’re still alive and where the hell Jormungand is.”  
Gerard’s eyes immediately flicked down to the floor. Frank put his hand over his boyfriend’s and looked at Lindsey angrily, “It’s kind of a sensitive topic.”  
At this, Lindsey’s eyes softened, “You didn’t...you didn’t lose people, did you? Wait…” panic began to seep into her voice, “where are the others?”  
“They’re in an abandoned warehouse we took up when we got here,” Ray explained, “Well...the one’s who survived are.” Ray took a breath, trying to keep retelling as minimal as possible, “Basically, when Gerard drank the blood, Jormungand...well he didn’t take his own physical form - he took Gerard’s.”  
Lindsey’s eyes went wide. “...What?”  
“It was, um... difficult for Gerard to keep a hold of his own free will. Jormungand took over, and....well he was more vicious than we anticipated-”  
“Well that’s a fucking understatement!” Lindsey exploded, “This poor kid probably had no idea what you guys were doing to him-”  
“Hey!” Frank yelled, “That poor kid is sitting right here!” He gestured to Gerard, who didn’t look like he wanted any more attention drawn to him. “And we didn’t know, okay?”  
“Oh, well that’s a relief,” Lindsey spat sarcastically, “As long as you didn’t know, I guess it’s fine then.”  
“Guys,” Ray held up his hands to silence them, “You two can work out your sibling problems later.”  
“Right,” Lindsey agreed, “Sorry. Continue.”  
Frank crossed his arms and grumbled, angry that she had decided to be the bigger person first.  
“We managed to get Jormungand out of Gerard,” Ray said, “After he had done a lot of damage, as you saw, but we still did it. Jormungand is trapped back where he was before, and I found a subduing ritual we use to continue evoking our powers from him. We’ve stopped doing the Filling of the Cup, so that power will eventually get drained, but it shouldn’t be for a long time-”  
“What about Gerard?” Lindsey asked.  
“Oh,” Ray blinked, “He doesn’t have the fifth element anymore, but he still has the link he-”  
“No stupid, I mean how is he? It doesn’t sound like Jormungand was a very nice roommate to have taking up residence in his head.”  
“Oh,” Ray said again, his cheeks heating up in shame, “He’s uh,” he turned to Gerard, whose eyes were glued to the floor, “He’s been healing.”  
“Hmm.” Lindsey knitted her brows, giving Gerard a sympathetic look that he didn’t see. “So what is it that you guys want? I’d be ok with letting you stay here if it was just the three of you, but I don’t know how many others you brought, and I don’t have a lot of money to lend-”  
“Oh no,” Ray shook his head, “We’re not here for that. We’ve been getting by. Some of the guys got fake IDs, the food banks are pretty generous, and we can get showers in community centres-”  
“Okay, okay,” Lindsey closed her eyes and shook her hands in front of her, “I really don’t need to know about your hygiene practices. Just tell me why you’re here.”  
Ray sighed, “Well we can’t really return to normal life. We tried getting jobs but...surprise, surprise, everyone in this town only notices us long enough to quickly avert their gazes. I told Frank what you told me before you left Dolorosa - that you had been planning to start practicing magic and maybe start a group of your own-” Ray looked around at the group of girls, “-which I guess you did.”  
Lindsey grinned proudly, “It’s called the House of Wolves.”  
Frank scoffed, “That’s not lame at all.”  
“At least my group name doesn’t sound like a fucking tongue twister-”  
“Children-” Ray warned.  
“Anyway,” Lindsey said, ignoring the tongue Frank was sticking out at her, “Yes, I did start my own group.”  
“Well…” Ray began sheepishly, “from what you told me, your group’s goal sounds…”  
“Less stupid?”  
“...more attainable than our’s was. We know we’re in no position to ask anything of you-”  
“Speak for yourself,” Frank muttered.  
“-but we were wondering if...if-”  
Lindsey smiled, “you want to join.” A few of the girls gasped and some began to mutter angrily. Up until now, they had been caught up in Ray’s story and Lindsey’s bickering with her brother. The prospect of their pagan sisterhood being mixed with the presence of males angered them.  
“Sorry-” Came Gerard’s quiet voice. Everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he had finally decided to speak, “But before Ray signs me up for another cult, I’d like to know what I’m getting into this time.” The tail end of Gerard’s words seemed to deflate Ray, and he regretted being so harsh, but then again, given the recent events of his life, he wasn’t about to take another wild gamble.  
“Okay,” Lindsey agreed, “Then I guess it’s time for you to hear my end of the story. I used to live with Frank on Dolorosa,” she addressed Gerard while her brother began to sulk, “I was there when the Band of the Serpent’s Son was created. I mean - I didn’t fully understand what it was at first. Hell, I thought it was a gang. All I knew was that Frank would disappear from home all the time-” Frank scowled when she said the word ‘home,’ “and came back one day with a weird mark on his hand. He was always secretive about where he’d been. It didn’t bug me that much until I found out Ray was in on it too.”  
“Ray?” Gerard asked, “Why?”  
“Because Ray was-” Lindsey paused here, not making eye contact with Ray, “Ray was a close friend of mine. He knew Frank but I didn’t know he was actually as close with him as he was with me - closer even -”  
“Oh God,” Frank said, throwing his hands in the air and ignoring the angry looks of the girls when they heard Him being spoken of in their secret place. “Don’t fucking turn this on me and pretend to be the victim here. It’s not my fault he found someone more fun to hang out with.” He grew even moodier when he saw the look Gerard was giving him.  
“Anyways,” Lindsey pushed on through gritted teeth, “I followed Frank to a meeting one night and found out everything. I wanted in. I know Frank finds this hard to believe, but there are actually people other than him who suffer and want to make a change in the world. Ray said he would consider it - then out of the blue, whaddya know? Frank suddenly finds this book on rituals that says groups like the Band are most effective when the members are all of the same gender-”  
“Well it’s true isn’t it?” Frank pointed out, “You did the exact same thing with your little sorority-”  
“That’s not the point,” Lindsey rolled her eyes angrily towards him, “You didn’t even help Ray with any research until the moment I arrived and wanted to join. You had no interest in his books until you realized you could use them to keep me out-”  
“That’s bullshit!”  
“Guys!” Gerard yelled. Everyone turned to look at him, but this time he didn’t shrink away, “I can tell you guys have some stuff to work out, but I’d really like to hear the rest of what Lindsey has to say before you behead each other!”  
The siblings stared at the ground, humbled by Gerard’s anger, “Sorry,” Lindsey said, “So the gist of what happened - I went off and began doing my own research on magic, angry that Ray had listened to Frank. Along the way, I became particularly interested in the details of the Final Ritual. I came across one passage in particular about summoning vengeful deities. It went into depths about all the dangers, but in a few words; it’s a fucking stupid idea. I tried to warn them about what would happen, but my little brother managed to spin my concern into jealousy-”  
“I didn’t know you were telling the truth!” Frank said defensively.  
“Yeah, well I was,” Lindsey snapped, “I wasn’t just jealous, like you always think I am. Turns out I actually have a heart and was just concerned for my brother. How fucking crazy is that?” Frank didn’t respond, so she continued, “Anyway, when we got home, the disagreement escalated into a fight, and...things got out of hand. I decided that I didn’t want to be part of a group that recklessly abused their power anyway. I packed up my things - the things I had left,” at this, Frank look on a guilty expression but Lindsey didn’t explain any further, “And left for Isla Cura. I started my own group in the hopes that our version of the Final Ritual would give me the power to go back to Dolorosa and stop you guys from drinking from the cup. You guys would have been able to get your power from my source, and whatever went down with Jormungand never would have happened.”  
There was a long, painful silence as the significance of her words sunk into the boys’ minds.  
“What we’re attempting,” she continued, “Is much safer, because we’re not pulling a primordial beast from the depths of who-knows-where to ravage earth. In order to get what we want, we have to complete five tasks - in fact, we just got them before you arrived - which gives us the right to pull power from our source. That power will be stronger than what you guys have now, but not was untamed as what destroyed Dolorosa.”  
“What’s your source?” Ray asked, “Or who, I mean?”  
“It’s hard to explain,” Lindsey said, “I found some writings by some eccentric who seems to have conflated the Biblical Satan with Fenrir of Norse mythos-”  
“Oh no,” Gerard said burying his head in his hands, “What is it with you guys and Norse mythology?”  
“Oh hang on, it gets better,” Lindsey said, “According to the myths, Fenrir is Jormungand’s brother-” she immediately backpedaled when she saw the horrified looks on the boy’s faces, “But don’t worry! The creature we’re going to pull power from isn’t actually Fenrir, at least I don’t think it is.”  
Ray frowned. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more sure than that.”  
“Like I said,” Lindsey continued, “There’s conflation. This version isn’t just Norse - there’s Christianity, even a little Roman stuff about the wolf who fed-”  
“Sis,” Frank cut in, careful not to use too harsh a tone and start another fight, “I’m sure Ray is soaking all this up, but Gerard and I aren’t Mythology buffs.”  
“Basically,” Lindsey summed up, “This creature - this...Wolf - the writer basically ends up just referring to it as the Wolf - isn’t anything I’ve ever seen before. It seems to be that this one being has been the inspiration for a bunch of major cultures and religions. For our purposes, only one thing matters - the Wolf stays where she is.”  
“She?” Frank asked.  
“Yes,” Lindsey nodded, “The Wolf seems to hint at femininity more than Fenrir or the Devil. I like to say ‘she’, seems fitting for our group.”  
“Pretty fitting,” Frank muttered, “A female wolf as the icon of a group led by a headstrong bi-”  
“Okay,” Ray cut in before Frank could finish, “I think we’ve heard enough. I... I know we don’t really have the right to ask to join-”  
“Yeah, you can,” Lindsey shrugged.  
“What?” Ray asked in surprise. Even Frank looked shocked.  
“You forget that I’m not my brother. I can hold grudges much longer than he can, but I don’t let them turn me into an idiot.”  
“Thanks,” Frank mumbled.  
“I think you could be of use with your expertise, and I’d rather you guys be busy here than starting some new elaborate scheme to get yourselves killed. So yeah, you can join.” There was more grumbling from the girls, but Linsey continued. “With conditions of course. I’ll allow you and the rest of the Band to join as long as you do everything I say and don’t date, or even think about dating any of my girls. Even though the group is being joined by outsiders, the bond that build the group was between us. Any messing around with an outside source might taint it.”  
“Alright,” Ray said after getting reluctant nods from Frank and Gerard, both of them hesitant for different reasons, “We’re in. I mean...I don’t think you have to worry about that last issue with my group in particular.”  
Lindsey shrugged, “I don’t know which of your players swing for multiple teams - can’t be too careful. So, you said something earlier that interested me. I think I’m beginning to have an idea for how we can spin the first task to fit a meaning we can use.” She saw the confused looks on the boys’ faces. “I’ll explain later. Basically all you need to know is that it’s an inside job - inside the church, I mean - that’s our enemy. I’ll explain more on that later too. The church and I are already...on bad terms. And some of my girls are pretty infamous around there too. But I think your fresh faces could be of use. Come back here with your fake IDs tomorrow when it’s dark - and make sure no one follows you here.”  
The three agreed and got up to leave. They snuck back into the night to find their friends and tell them that after throwing away their lives on their most recent obsession, they would devote was was left of their lives on this new one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so yes, Lindsey is in this story now. Yes this is going to create some tension. I just need to make it known that I will not tolerate any bullshit whining about her being in this. You don't need to like her if you don't want to but you also don't need to bitch about her. I didn't put her in as a scapegoat, I put her in because she's amazing (I'm kinda in love with her) and her relationships with the other characters will help expand the plot and character development. That is all.


	20. House of Wolves II: I Know A Thing About Contrition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray tells the rest of the boys about the House of Wolves. Gee and Beebo have a much needed talk.

House of Wolves II: I Know A Thing About Contrition

Ray, Frank, and Gerard trudged back to the small warehouse they had been using as a shelter. The storm had let up to a light drizzle, but they were still thankful for the trashcan bonfires they had built to keep warm. Though it was summer, the temperature could drop surprisingly at night, and a lot of them had lost weight, no longer having their old baby fat to keep in heat. The handful of guys left in the group sat lifelessly around the abandoned equipment and pieces of furniture they had managed to rummage from trash. Ray and Frank went over to explain their new plan, but Gerard decided to take a seat in a corner on top of some flattened cardboard. After so much talking, he wanted at least a few moments of quiet. He soon found that the silence only gave way to thoughts and memories he didn’t want to have, so he listened absently to Ray and the others.  
Most of the guys didn’t have a problem with this new idea. In fact, many of them were excited to finally have something to do other than laying low and occasionally causing trouble (which only resulted in a lecture from Ray). A few others looked uneasy - all they wanted was some peace after the events on Dolorosa. Eventually however, everyone agreed that the thrill of secrecy and rituals was much better than squatting in garbage and doing nothing all day but dwelling on the past. The guys dispersed after the decision was made, each going back to their claimed spots which they used as a sort of substitute for having possessions and privacy.  
Brendon came over to sit beside Gerard. His voice was strained when he spoke.  
“How are you holding up?”  
“Okay.” Gerard murmured.   
“Mm.”  
“You?”  
“Okay,” Brendon echoed, “I mean, I know that ‘okay’ is what you say when you’re definitely not okay. So yeah, I’m ‘okay’ too.”  
“Brendon-” Gerard started, not knowing how to continue. There was so much Gerard wanted to say, so many apologies he wanted to repeat over and over but that he knew would make no difference. Brendon knew he was sorry and Gerard knew Brendon was grieving. There was nothing more to say on the fact that Gerard at killed Brendon’s boyfriend, though unwittingly.  
“I’m not here to blame you.” Brendon explained quickly, seeing the pain in Gerard’s eyes, “I already explained - I know it wasn’t your fault. I just...I wanted to see how you were doing. Honest. It mustn't have been easy...what you went through.”  
“To be honest, it probably wasn’t as bad as what you went through.”  
Brendon didn’t object. Gerard tried to imagine what it would be like if he lost Frank, but quickly decided that the opposite would be worse, not out of a selfish desire to survive, but because of how Frank would be affected. He tried to imagine the sparkle fading from Frank’s eyes, the joy draining from his smile if anything ever happened to Gerard. Then he looked over at Brendon, who looked just as he imagined. This is what Frank would become, he thought. Then - no, that’s not it, because Brendon had a water link. In his sorrow, he was drained - like a body of water during a drought. He was similar to Frank in that he used to be playfully flirty, but Frank had a fire to him that only grew with pain or anger. Gerard shuddered to think what Frank would become with grief.  
“What was it like?” Brendon asked after the moment of silence, “To have Jormungand in your head? I mean...if you’re okay talking about it.”  
“It was…” Gerard took a shaky breath, “It was like...I don’t know how to even describe it. It felt like drowning and being on fire and buried alive and suffocating all at the same time, which I guess was kind of the point. I’ve never felt so trapped in my entire life.” And that’s saying something, he thought. “But I could see and feel everything that was going on. It was my hands that killed all those people. It was my ears that heard my family screaming…” his voice trailed off and his gaze went distant. “I remember everything.”  
For a second, Brendon looked uneasy. He wanted to ask something, but decided against it, though both the answer and the question were clear. He was going to ask - do you remember what Ryan looked like as you killed him? How you did it? Did he suffer? But Gerard had already answered the first question, and Brendon decided that he didn’t want an answer to the others.  
“You know,” Gerard began again, suddenly feeling the need to get this off his chest, “out of everything I miss, my mind keep going back to the stuff I used to have. I know it sounds selfish, but it’s not the material worth, it’s how they made me feel. My art and music were like...friends I used to have before I joined. There was so much sentimental value tied to all of them, and I just...destroyed everything.”   
Brendon nodded, “I understand. Music means a lot to me too.”  
I probably destroyed all your music as well, Gerard thought guiltily.  
“But,” Brendon continued, putting a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, “We can at least try to replace some of what we lost. And besides, you don’t need replacements for friends - you have us now.” He gave Gerard a quick nod before getting up and walking away.   
Somehow Brendon’s kindness only made Gerard feel worse. A part of him wished that for once someone would scream at him and tell him what a monster he was - at least then what he thought of himself wouldn’t contradict what others kept telling him.  
A few moments later, Frank walked up with a sleeping bag - they had to share because there weren’t enough for everyone. The boys tried to spread them around as much as possible, enduring the smell of unwashed adolescents for the comfort of physical contact.  
Gerard carefully wiggled his way into the sleeping bag, squeezing himself as much as he could to the side as Frank snuggled in beside him. They laid together on the ground, Frank curling around Gerard’s body and resting his head on Gerard’s chest. Gerard often found himself playing with Frank’s hair distractedly as he tried to fall asleep. He twirled the dark locks between his fingers, noting that Frank’s shaved sides were beginning to grow back. Gerard’s own hair had grown as well - in fact, a lot about Gerard had changed over the first half of the summer. He had grown taller and was much skinnier than before. The scars and burns from the incident with Jormungand were beginning to heal, but the remnants only contributed to his more mature appearance. He had lost nearly all of his baby fat and his jawline was more chiseled. He wondered for a second how his mother would react to seeing how he looked now. She probably wouldn’t even recognize me, he thought. But then he remembered that she was no longer around to disapprove of his appearance.  
“So,” Gerard said quietly to Frank so as not to disturb the others, “You never told me you had a sister.”  
“What’s to tell?” Frank mumbled into Gerard’s shirt.  
“A lot, it seems. You kind of have a rough history.”  
“That’s an understatement,” Frank laughed, “she can be such a bitch sometimes.”  
“She seemed nice. I think you should give her a chance.”  
“Oh right,” Frank said, yawning, “Because you know my own sister better than I do.”  
“Sisters can be annoying,” Gerard said, “Trust me, I know. But...you never know how long you’ll have with her. I mean, if something happened to you on Dolorosa, you never would have gotten to say goodbye, ya know?”  
Frank pushed himself up onto his elbows and knit his brows together, “Why do I get the feeling this is about Michelle?”  
“I just...I don’t think you should just cut Lindsey off. Especially since you haven’t seen each other for so long. You may have thought I hated Michelle the way I talked about her, but I didn’t. I really loved her. A lot. And I don’t think you hate Lindsey either - not really. I just think you should open up to her enough to tell her that.”  
Frank looked concerned for a second, but quickly smirked, “Should I write her a letter? Dear Lindsey, turns out I actually don’t hate you. Love, Frank. Yeah, she’ll love that.”  
Gerard rolled his eyes, “You know what I meant.”  
Frank giggled and rested his head back onto Gerard’s chest. After a few moments, he got serious again. “It’s just...it’s really complicated between us. Maybe things will work out...I dunno.”  
Gerard stared up at the beams and pipes that made up the structure of the warehouse’s ceiling. They cast ominous shadows around the sleeping boys. Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank and hugged him tighter, leaning his face down to kiss the top of his head, “I still think you should try,” but Frank had already fallen asleep.

Gerard had a nightmare that night. Again. It was the same nightmare he had been having almost twice a week. He was back at his old house; everything was in tact, and his family was very much alive. They were sitting around the table having breakfast, smiling and laughing. It was an odd dream because Gerard could at once see himself from a third person perspective, but he was also seeing his surroundings with his own eyes. It all made a lot of sense to him while it was happening - dream logic and all that.   
From the third person perspective, Gerard looked like his old self. His cheeks were full and he had a wide smile on his face. But soon his face began to grow pale, his cheeks lost their fat, and dark circles began to form around his eyes. His family stopped laughing and they all turned to look accusingly at him.  
“You’re disgusting,” his father spat.  
“You’re not my son,” said his mother.  
Michelle’s voice was a whisper, but it seemed the loudest out of all of them, “You killed me.”  
“I-” Gerard stammered, getting up from the table, “I’m sorry, I-”  
“You mean didn’t to?” His father jeered.  
“Look at him!” His mother screeched, “He’s a demon! You’ve turned yourself into a demon!”  
From the third person view, Gerard could see that his eyes were glowing.  
“I don’t want to die!” Michelle began to wail, finally finishing her last words, “Please, Gerard! I don’t want to die!”  
“It’s okay!” Gerard said, “I’m not going to hurt you Michelle, you’re alive now!”  
He reached out his hand to comfort his sister, but she crumbled to pieces like sand the moment he moved his arm. Gerard cried out and looked to his parents, who glared hatefully at him. He ran to the stairs, trying to flee to his room like he had the first time. His mother caught his foot and he fell, knocking his chin on the step. She grabbed him by the hair and threw his head repeatedly against the step. Gerard tried to tell her to stop, but all he could do was cry as she screamed at him. She called him a demon over and over again, telling him to leave her boy alone.  
“It’s me!” He was finally able to call out, “Mom, it’s me, please!”  
Gerard’s eyes began to glow and he was finally able to stand and push his mother away with his new strength. He could feel the power growing in him, but he didn’t want to hurt them. Not again. He scrambled to the door, hastily throwing it open and running as fast as he could out of the house. He could hear his father running behind him, screaming for him to come back. Gerard’s heart pounded faster and faster. He felt as if his heart would climb through his throat and out of his mouth. Just as he was about to run out of strength, he felt his father’s hand grab the back of his neck.  
“Gerard!” He yelled.

“Gerard, wake up!”  
Gerard felt his muscles tense up as he started violently from sleep. He gasped suddenly and his eyes shot wide open. He had been lying on his stomach in the sleeping bag - Frank had gotten up earlier and was now shaking him awake, jostling the back of his neck. Gerard took a few deep breaths, trying to will his heartbeat into slowing down. He wearily sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  
“You okay?” Frank asked, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  
“I’mmfine,” Gerard mumbled.   
Frank grinned at his grumpy boyfriend - Gerard was definitely not a morning person. “You didn’t have another nightmare, did you?”  
Gerard froze at the sudden question, “What? No, why do you-”  
“Because you seemed pretty shaken up when I woke you.”  
Gerard looked into Frank’s eyes, which had quickly become serious, “No...I...it’s okay.” Gerard was tired of being babied and coddled by his friends, and what was more - he didn’t want Frank worrying about him. Since being off Dr. Solomon’s medication, he thought his symptoms would go away, but they only seemed to get worse; his nightmares occurred more vividly and frequently, his headaches were more painful, and he only ate when Frank or Ray forced him to. On the bright side, he thought bitterly, at least my twitch is gone.  
“Okaaay,” Frank said suspiciously, not at all buying Gerard’s lie, “Well if you do have more nightmares, tell me, okay?” He then looked out at the handful of guys who had gathered near one of the exits of the warehouse. “A few of us are gonna go see where we can get showers. Maybe snag some stuff from some convenience stores. Wanna come?”   
Gerard was suddenly aware of how bitter his mouth tasted and how sour he smelled. His skin almost always felt like it was caked in grime, “Oh God yes, I need a shower.”  
Gerard quickly got dressed in some baggy jeans and a black t-shirt - both them worn and riddled with holes - under the cover of his sleeping bag so that no one could see him. All of the other boys were completely fine with being naked in front of one another, but they had come to accept the fact that Gerard would always want his privacy.  
As Gerard walked out the door, readying himself for a much needed, but probably rushed shower and the anxiety filled rush of petty theft, he wondered how his life had come to this. Yes, it was fun and adventurous at times, but occasionally he would have liked to be able to feel comfortable, safe, and truly clean. Instead, he was stealing from thrift stores and supermarkets in an attempt to get by. He sometimes wondered how his life had some to this, how he had gone from being a timid homebody to a thieving street rat. But given the fact that he had no other alternatives, and the place he used to call home was completely demolished, he supposed he didn’t really have a choice.  
He just hoped whatever scheme Lindsey had cooked up would help give some purpose to what had become a tedious and meaningless hassle of a life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been getting back into Lovecraftian stories (which totally haven't influenced my writing at all, whaaaat?) and I recently purchased a collection of his works. If you like dark and weird supernatural stuff (especially cults, wink wonk) you should definitely read/listen to some H.P Lovecraft stories. His stuff is really great. (once you get past the old-timey racism, yikes)


	21. House of Wolves III: I Got Enough To Spare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fire at Will is now longer than Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters. Just thought that was interesting. This is the longest story I've ever written - I usually give up or end it before it gets to this point.

House of Wolves III: I Got Enough To Spare

That night, the Band of the Serpent’s Son stood in a circle around one of their bonfires - a crude and meager replacement for their old fireplace - half heartedly finishing up their subduing ritual to drain Jormungand of his power. What used to be a fun and devious activity had turned into more of a chore - they had little use for their powers as they found that they could do all their stealing and sneaking about like mundane people did, and a lot of them had previous experience in small thefts anyway. Nowadays, they mostly felt like washed up performers with the ability to do illusions and tricks - the botched coming of Jormungand had gotten rid of the need to practice for when he finally came. By that point, their powers were mainly used as their only source entertainment and scraps of their pride and confidence.  
The subduing ritual required them to stand in a circle as usual, but instead of joining hands they would have their marked hand held sideways in front of them with the other covering the mark. Ray would speak the verses of the chant, and the boys would repeat after him. Their eyes and marks would glow, but not the same as they had before. Without the cup to fill, there was no pleasure to be felt. The boys were glad when the ritual was over - every time they did it was just a dull reminder of what they had lost.  
They made their way over to Lindsey’s house, careful to be quiet and make sure that no one was following them. They weren’t quite sure why anyone would, but considering that Isla Cura was nearly as fervently religious as Dolorosa had been, they didn’t want to run the risk of being found out.  
When they finally arrived, the boys received piercing glares from many of the girls, who were already sitting neatly around Lindsey’s small fireplace. The guys awkwardly sat around them, some looking away sheepishly while others glared right back. Bob in particular seemed to be having a stare-down with Jen, the curvy brunette with bangs who had been jotting down what Lindsey had said during her trance.  
When Lindsey joined them, she was holding a large, aged, book, similar to the ones Ray always pored over back on Dolorosa. It was worn but beautifully made, with a black cover and swirling silver letters in a script Gerard couldn’t understand. Ray felt a pang of sadness, suddenly reminded of the beloved and caringly curated volumes he once owned.  
“This is my main source,” Lindsey said, plopping down into her usual place and carefully flipping the book open. Everyone crowded around her as best they could, peering over her shoulder at what she had to show them. On the page Lindsey had flipped to was a carefully drawn - though slightly smudged - ink sketch of a terrifying looking wolf leaping towards a full moon, snarling jaw wide open as if to bite the celestial body with its sharp teeth. Beneath the trailing arch made by the wolf’s body was a strange man with a humanoid torso, a pair of goat legs, and horns sprouting from his bald head. He sat on a throne made of thorns and held a pitchfork in one hand and what looked like an apple in another. His left leg was chained to one of the wolf’s rear paws, and when Gerard leaned in closer he could see that the cuffs of those chains were engraved with crucifixes.  
“To keep this short,” Lindsey said, “This picture basically explains what the author has gathered. Like I said before, Fenrir of Norse mythology and the Devil of Christianity have been conflated into the Wolf. The link,” she tapped the chain connecting the two drawings, “is that both beings were defeated by G-O-D or his son, or whatever.” (Lindsey was always careful to never directly reference either during meetings.) “In Satan’s case, it was more literal, but for Fenrir it’s more in the sense that Christianity came along and either converted all the pagans or wiped them out through torture and executions. The Wolf’s primary enemy is the church, and in carrying out five tasks against a church - one church in particular that I’ve already chosen, we will be granted her power in thanks for getting her revenge.”  
“So what are the tasks?” Ray’s voice brought Gerard back to reality - he had been staring and the illustrations trying to figure out if it would be better to use a brush or pen to recreate the drawings, wondering which areas he would use long strokes and with areas called for short ones, which areas would need more or less pressure, how he would angle his hands at each turn. Then he thought - I really need to steal me some art supplies.  
Lindsey continued. “Yesterday I went into a trance and we got a cryptic...I dunno, let’s call it a prophecy. It’s not clearly laid out and is basically all symbolism, but we can actually use that to our advantage. Instead of being confined to strict guidelines, we can basically do whatever we can justify.”  
Frank squinted. “And what does that mean exactly?”  
Lindsey reached her hand out to Jen, who handed her a small black notebook - the one the prophecy had been written down in, “I’ll explain - after you guys officially join.”  
“What?” Frank asked, “But you said-”  
“I said you could join, but I never said there wouldn’t be an initiation first. I assume you know the basics of cult karma? I need to make sure that if any of you guys screw me over, your oath to be loyal will come back to haunt you as well.”  
“Cult karma?” Gerard asked, almost smiling. “That sounds like a band.”  
Lindsey grinned, “Haha, very funny. Basically it’s a kind of security measure. When you get initiated into a group like this, whatever chant you pledge binds you to it - if you leave or break any of the rules, the universe finds a way of delivering a big ‘fuck you’ in return. Trust me, I’ve read about entire ancient cities burning to the ground because some asshole thought it would be funny to share the secrets of his brotherhood. This shit is serious.”  
“Oh,” Gerard gulped, suddenly feeling his nervousness return.  
“But don’t worry,” Lindsey said quickly, “You don’t plan to betray us, right?”  
Gerard shook his head.  
“Then don’t worry about it.” She put the large book aside, got up from her place and walked over to the coffee table on which the white cloth was spread. The smile she gave them was more frightening than any demon or wolf. “Who wants to be my first volunteer?”  
Ray finally stepped forward, slightly embarrassed at the mocking giggles the girls were giving them for being so obviously intimidated by their leader.  
“I’ll go first.”  
Lindsey gestured towards the coffee table. “Put your hand on the centre of the fabric in between the circle - use your left one. If Jormungand's mark touches the Wolf’s circle, the deities will conflict.”  
Ray knelt in front of the coffee table and did as he was instructed.  
“Now repeat after me,” Lindsey said, then began reciting the chant with Ray repeating her words at the end of each phrase.  
Gerard didn’t really catch much of the chant, and didn’t try to, even when he was repeating the words himself. After the whole thing with Jormungand and how tiresome the subduing ritual had become, he was fully disenchanted with incantations in foreign tongues. All he caught was that the chant only seemed to used the same few letters over and over again as the beginning of each word. He didn’t really put much thought into it. He was tired of chanting - whatever ‘tasks’ Lindsey was going to tell them about sounded fun and interesting, much more interesting than repeating random sounds that only a handful of the group members even understood.  
After all the members of the Band of the Serpent’s Son had been initiated into the House of Wolves, they went back to their original places and took their seats - all except Lindsey, who stood in the centre of them, flipping open the small notebook Jen had handed to her.  
“Jen wrote down what came to me during the trance. Basically what we have to do is decipher it and perform some action that both undermines the church and fits the gist of what the prophecy implies. We’ll know if we completed the task properly because one of the five dots on that fabric,” she pointed to the cloth on the table, “will light up.” She then reread the tasks aloud, looks of confusion passing over the faces of the boys.  
“I know it sounds like a lot to figure out,” she explained, “but when you think about it, it’s only really five things we have to do. Let’s just think about this one step at a time, alright? I’ve already figured out the first two - now all we need to do for now is carry them out.” She turned to the boys as her signature terrifying smile made its return, “Now I just need a volunteer to...go undercover. Which of you boys has the most experience with church?”  
For a second, Gerard hesitated, but he eventually raised his hand with a look of determination on his face. He wanted to be useful - no more coddling. “I do,” he said, trying to sound confident.  
“Alrighty then,” Lindsey said with a grin, “I guess we’ve officially begun.”  
“Hey, wait a minute,” Frank called out, “He’s not doing anything alone - I’m going with him.”  
“What?” Gerard turned to face Frank, embarrassed to be babied now, of all times. “Frank, you don’t have to-”  
“No, actually.” Lindsey mused, putting a hand to her chin, “It’s actually a good idea to send two, just to be safe. I’d already worked out an alibi for just one person,” she waved her hand, “but I’m sure we can fit you in somehow.”  
“Thanks,” Frank muttered dryly.  
They continued to discuss the plan - or the plan as far as Lindsey had come up with - in detail for the next few minutes, making tweaks here and there. After about a half hour of talking (and occasional sibling squabbling) Lindsey decided that the official meeting was over, but the boys were welcome to stay for refreshments, which meant cheap coffee and stale saltines. The two groups actually began to socialize, and as the idea that they would actually be working together settled in their minds, the icy barriers began to melt.  
Frank had gotten up to go talk to Ray (most likely to rant about his sister), leaving Gerard to sit awkwardly in silence with Lindsey.  
“So Gerard,” Lindsey said, sipping her coffee from a chipped red mug, “Are you sure you wanna be the one to do this?”  
“Well yeah, I mean...you said you needed someone with experience in the church-”  
“I know, but-” her brows knitted together and she spoke to him earnestly, without her usual sharpness, “I feel kinda guilty just sending you out there after what you’ve been through.”  
“Wha-?” Gerard froze, for a second worried that somehow Lindsey had found out about his extremely religious parents and the conversion therapy. Who would have told her that? Ray? Frank? When would they have had the time? But then he decided that she must have meant the incident with Jormungand. “Oh..” he said quietly, “No, it’s fine. I’m doing better now.”  
“It must be hard for you to trust another group like this after what happened though.”  
“It is…” he agreed, but then quickly laughed, “but to be honest, you seem a lot more prepared than we were. We kind of went into the whole thing blindly - especially me.”  
“I understand,” Lindsey nodded, “That’s what I was worried about in the first place - why I was so frustrated when Frank and Ray wouldn’t listen to me. I just don’t want something to go wrong with you playing a part in this - not after what’s already happened. I don’t know the full details but-”  
“It’s fine,” Gerard assured a little harshly. He looked up and saw the concerned look on her face and decided to change his tone. “Plus, if anything comes up, I can just chuck a gust of wind at the bad guys.” What had sounded funny and confident in his head came out dorky and lame - he tried for a smile anyways. She returned it.  
“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “I keep forgetting you have powers too.”  
“Oh...right, “Gerard remembered, “You only get yours after all the tasks are done. So you’re basically...powerless?”  
“Not entirely. I can still perform incantations and so can the girls. The only thing we need to be able to do that is devotion and belief towards the deity the rituals are for. So I guess...I guess hope is really our only power. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it’s gotten us contact with the Wolf, so it’s definitely something. To be honest, I’m kinda jealous of you guys. I know I was going on and on about being irresponsible with your powers and being unprepared, but I’ve always wanted to be able to do what Frank can do with his fire.” she stared into her now empty mug, a sad look coming over her face, “I guess he’s right about me being jealous after all.”  
Gerard sat there, startled at her sudden honesty. He had no idea what to say. “Uhh...come on Lindsey, don’t feel bad! I mean, you’re pretty cool too!” He mentally berated himself for such a weak response. Why was talking to people so difficult?  
Instead of giving him the weird look he felt he deserved, she stared at him for a couple seconds and then began to laugh. He looked at her blankly, wondering what he had done to amuse her.  
“Wh-what’s so funny?”  
“Sorry,” Lindsey giggled, “It’s just...you’re not what I expected the Drinker would be. Most of the guys in the Band of the Serpent’s Son are assholes, and you’re basically dripping with kindness. What the hell are you doing hanging around with my little brother?”  
“He’s not that bad,” Gerard insisted, seeing his moment to try and mend the rift between the two siblings. “I don’t know what he was like when you lived on Dolorosa, but he’s been great in the time I’ve gotten to know him. He’s probably changed a lot.”  
“Yeah,” Lindsey mumbled, “Maybe he changed because I wasn’t around. He’s exactly the same around me now as he was before. I think we just bring out the worst in each other.” Lindsey stared back into her empty mug for a few seconds and then looked up and saw the saddened look on Gerard’s face. She tried for a smile and clapped him on the back, “Aww, don’t worry about it Gerard. You can’t expect to fix what happened between us. Anyway - I’d love to see you use your powers some time. What’s your link?”  
Feeling a bit more comfortable, Gerard began chatting with Lindsey about the details of his link, while across the room, Frank was glaring at them, pouting with his arms crossed.  
“Fuck,” he muttered, “Of all the islands in Salem Novus, why the hell did we have to come to this one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, sorry for the uneventful chapters lately. This is kinda the stuff I have to get through before it gets interesting. Promise things'll pick up soon <3  
> If it makes things any better, the next chapters are gonna have Gerard in very specific attire. Hint: think of the place he's going undercover.


	22. House of Wolves IV: Innocence For Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Frank go undercover and I put a 2016 meme in a fanfic that takes place 20 years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gUYS, I just realized that Heathens by Twenty One Pilots fits the first part of the fic perfectly, and in an extremely literal sense.

House of Wolves IV: Innocence For Days

The Chapel of St. Helena was a beautiful building, probably the most elegant structure on all of Isla Cura. From the outside, it was made of cold, grey, stone, with thick, imposing slabs and columns rising up with carvings of decorative arches and crucifixes above the entry stairway and doors. Inside the chapel was even more impressive. Rows and rows of dark mahogany pews upon intricately patterned carpet, all leading up to the front area - an open space for communion behind which were mahogany half-walls, rising level by level in front of areas for priests and other high-ranked members of the church to sit behind. Swathes of vibrant red fabric hung down in solid columns, contrasting with the flickering candles and white walls of the room. Highest of all was the preacher’s pulpit, which gave the speaker a superior view of everyone below him.  
This is all to say - it was a very beautiful chapel. As an artist appreciative of interesting architecture, Gerard felt bad that Lindsey had chosen this one to fuck up.  
Frank didn’t really give a shit.  
The two of them sat quietly (for the most part) during that Sunday’s service. Frank occasionally dozed off or began chatting to Gerard, only to be shushed and told to pay attention. Gerard, who had years of practice staying awake, or at least pretending to be interested during Sunday services, sat upright with his hands folded neatly in his lap, meanwhile his boyfriend slouched in a way that clearly screamed ‘jaded adolescent’.  
Reverend Ezra Timmons had just finished his sermon, most of which Frank had forgotten immediately upon hearing. He was a balding man of about fifty, with gentle brown eyes and jowls that drooped so low, they were almost canine. He wore white robes with two golden crosses on either side of the chest - the garment spread elegantly whenever he made a general, sweeping gesture, which was quite often. Upon coming to the close of the day’s service, he began announcements, which were written at the back of the service pamphlet, (handed out to all attending). After a brief 20th anniversary congratulations and details of an upcoming potluck, he came to the part that made Frank actually pay attention.  
“And finally,” Ezra said in his warm, powerful voice, “We are welcoming two new members to our church today.” He swept his hand to where Gerard and Frank were sitting, in the very first row, and his robes swept with him, “Gerard and his younger brother Franklin, both of whom will be joining our youth choir, the St. Helena Angels. Will the two of you please stand so that everyone can see you?”  
Gerard stood tall, trying to appear confident. He had to drag Frank up to stand with him, who was pissed off for several reasons. The fact that Gerard now looked so much older than him - old enough not just to pass for a man in his mid 20s, but also to be called his older brother, was almost as bad as having his older sister bossing him around again. What was worse, Gerard and Lindsey made him dress in the nicest clothes they could get from a nearby thrift shop - a long-sleeve, white button up shirt with a red tie and black pants. No eyeliner, no piercings - and the fingerless gloves had only been allowed to cover up his tattoos.  
Gerard was dressed in all black with a white priest’s collar. Instead of joining the gaggle of obvious virgin choir boys (Which Frank would actually enjoy being around if they weren’t so desperately heterosexual), he was going to be leading them as the new conductor as well as training to become a sort of junior priest.  
The congregation clapped politely, glad that the position of conductor and voice coach to the choir had been so quickly filled after the previous conductor had been hospitalized after mysteriously falling ill to a rare condition that caused hallucinations…  
“The two brothers,” Ezra continued, “will now be joining us every Sunday, with Gerard leading the choir. Choir practice will now recommence at the usual times. That is all. Go forth, rejoicing in the love of Jesus Christ. Hallelujah, hallelujah.”  
“Thanks be to God,” the congregation echoed (all except one very grumpy teenage boy) “Hallelujah, hallelujah.” 

After church at the warehouse, the boys gathered to tease a still pouting Frank about his new role in the St. Helena Angels.  
“Aww, our little baby Frank is making some new friends,” one of them said, ruffling his hair and making a show of having to bend down to do so.  
“Have fun singing with your new playmates - hope they don’t replace us!”  
“I fucking hate you guys,” Frank grumbled, crossing his arms (which of course, only made him look even cuter).  
“Aw, come on, Frankie,” Gerard said with a grin, “You should take it as a compliment! You look like a sweet little angel, it’s perfect that you get to sing with them!”  
“Fuck you!” Frank yelled, trying to be angry and hide the fact that he was smiling as well. He tried to swat at Gerard, who easily avoided being hit by placing a hand against Frank’s forehead and keeping him at an arm's distance while he flailed hopelessly. The boys roared with laughter until Ray came along and told them to leave poor Frank alone, though not without cracking a smile himself.  
After the fun and novelty of their new positions began to wear off, the rest of the boys went out - some to get food, some to get fresh air. Frank and Gerard sat quietly together on some crates in their usual corner - careful not to mess up their clothes - discussing how they would carry out their next plan.  
“So,” Frank joked, “Whaddya think, are we pure enough for church now?”  
“Heh,” Gerard laughed under his breath, “maybe not you, but I definitely know a thing about contrition.”  
“About what?”  
“Nevermind. But anyways, yeah it does feel weird being back in a church and pretending to be part of it. I mean I always felt like I was living a charade, but now I really am.”  
“Pfft,” Frank scoffed, “What are you talking about, we’ve got innocence for days.”  
Gerard rolled his eyes and giggled, “I hope you realize that if Hell exists, we’ve basically signed up for an eternity down there, right?.”  
“If Hell exists, we’re gonna be a fuckin celebrities.”  
“Oh my God, Frank.”  
“Partyin it up with my homeboy Satan.”  
They continued to joke around for a while until Frank suddenly sat up straight, remembering something he had meant to do.  
“Oh, Gerard,” he said excitedly, “I got you something! Close your eyes, I want it to be a surprise.”  
“Umm,” Gerard said hesitantly, putting a hand over his face, “Ok...should I be scared?”  
“No, stupid,” Frank giggled. There were a few rustling noises and Gerard wondered what Frank was doing - then he remembered that their hoodies had magic pockets, which came in very handy for a group that had acquired a considerable amount of what they owned through theft.  
“You really didn’t have to get me anything,” Gerard said, “It’s not even my birthday.”  
“I don’t give a shit, I got you a present and you’re going to like it. I mean...it’s actually not that great, so don’t get too excited, but still.”  
“Frank…”  
“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”  
Gerard opened his eyes and gasped with joy. In Frank’s hands were a small, black, wirebound sketchbook, a pack of black Sharpies of various sizes, some pencils, a sharpener, a eraser, and lastly, a dark green drawstring bag to hold everything. It wasn’t worth much monetarily - he had owned much better on Dolorosa in fact, yet the tears came to his eyes anyway. It had occurred to him many times that his life would be much more enjoyable if he was able to make art again, but he never felt that he deserved any form of joy after what he had done. It was nice to know that someone thought he did.  
“Frankie…” He didn’t know what to say, especially since Frank seemed to have read his mind. “You didn’t have to…”  
“Do you like it?” Frank beamed happily, “I know it’s not much, but I saw you looking at the drawing in my sister’s book, and...and you’ve seemed really down lately and I know you miss your art stuff so-” he stopped his rambling explanation when he saw Gerard wipe a tear from his eye. “Wait...are you crying?”  
“No!” Gerard said defensively, then gave in. “Yes...I...I know it’s dumb, I’m just really happy that you got me this, okay?”  
Frank laughed and placed the items in Gerard’s lap, “Good. I want you to be happy, you big crybaby.”  
Gerard wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Frankie.”  
“No prob, Gee. The first thing you draw in that book better be me, by the way.”  
Gerard laughed and they continued to chat about what he would draw until Gerard decided it was time to change out of his priest clothes.  
“These are our good clothes now,” he explained, standing up, “We gotta make sure they stay clean.”  
“Aww,” Frank whined, “But you look so hot in those clothes. Maybe I should start calling you Father now.”  
“Frank…”  
“Or Daddy…”  
“Jesus, Frank!” Gerard giggled, but still felt his cheeks flush.  
Frank smirked, standing up to look into Gerard’s eyes. “Actually Father, I must confess: I’ve been a very bad boy lately.”  
“Well then,” Gerard laughed, “I guess you better pray for forgiveness.”  
He dropped to his knees in a position of prayer, which naturally led to his face being inches away from Gerard’s crotch, “Alright, then.”  
“Uhh,” Gerard blushed, suddenly regretting his choice in words, “Frank, come on, you’re gonna get your pants dirty.”  
“I’m already dirty,” Frank drawled with his eyelids lowered - the way he did whenever he wanted Gerard to feel uncomfortable. It was working.  
“Frank-” Gerard started, but stopped, not knowing what else to follow up with.  
“You know,” Frank began slowly, rising to his feet and leaning in so that their faces were close, “No one else is around, and they’ll probably still be out for a while…”  
“Um...yeah?”  
“So…” Frank began to press his body into Gerard’s, speaking breathily into his neck and moving his hands to... less appropriate areas, “we can do whatever we want…”  
Gerard froze, unable to communicate what he wanted to say. Did he want to be close with Frank, closer even, than they had ever been before? Yes, absolutely. Did he want to take off his clothes and be naked and vulnerable, the last occurrence of which had taken place in a certain Doctor’s office? Absolutely not. He may have matured and lost a lot of weight, but the insecure child within him was still there, screaming at him to pull away.  
Luckily for him, he didn’t have to. Ray and a few others walked in with bags of chips and packs of soda - essentially, dinner. Frank immediately moved away from Gerard when he heard Ray’s voice from the other end of the warehouse. Gerard used the distraction to quickly dive behind some crates to change his clothes. 

The boys met with the House of Wolves when it became dark. They went over the first stage of their plan again, which largely revolved around Gerard and Frank, which Lindsey had determined most of the tasks would. The others - mostly the girls - were pissed that they would barely be playing a role. After all, they were the original members of the cult. The rest of the boys were mostly glad to finally have a place to socialize that didn’t reek with the fetor of a frat house.

The drawing of Frank was eventually the first thing Gerard finished in his sketchbook. After meeting with the House of Wolves and returning home, when the two of them lay in their sleeping bag, Gerard drew a little doodle of Frank sleeping peacefully. With some shading, the lighting began to look very dramatic, and eventually it turned into Frank sleeping in a meadow under a starry night and full moon. For the first time since the incident with Jormungand, Gerard was finally feeling content. He had no idea what was in store for them, or what the rest of the tasks would entail. He was actually extremely nervous about what he and Frank were going to do the next day - but despite all the uncertainty, he felt at the same time a strange aura of peace. Things are starting to look up, he told himself as he began to doze off, his sketchbook clutched to his chest. Everything is going to be okay - his last thoughts as he fell into a sleep that was, for once, bereft of nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my attempt at writing flirting okay, but my friend insisted on it.  
> Also there may or may not be either a hiatus or period where I don't update as often bc I'm starting school soon and also I haven't been feeling too well lately and I've barely written anything in advance.  
> Idk we'll see how it goes.


	23. House of Wolves V: Haven’t Got A Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brother Frank and Daddy Gerard get some espionage done. 
> 
> Also there's more chanting patterns in this one. Idk if it's really obvious and no one's pointed it out because it's lame, or no one's pointed it out because no one's seen the pattern yet.

House of Wolves V: Haven’t Got A Prayer

Hiram Danielson hadn’t exactly done much all day. A quick sermon plan here, some phone calls there. As one of the highest ranking priests not just at St. Helena, but in Salem Novus, he was also one of the wealthiest men in the archipelago. In truth, he made most of his money from televangelism, a career for which he was widely known and criticized. His cream, stucco house was one of the most lovely in the area as well - so lovely in fact, that is is better described as a mansion. With three storeys and more rooms than a single man in his fifties would ever need, he was often criticized for his hypocritical decadence as well. His defence? A devoted messenger of God deserves his own little slice of Heaven during his mortal toil of servitude on earth.  
When his doorbell rang at around noontime, he got up from his leather couch in the living room to open the door (his maid was supposed to answer it, but he found her quite idle and useless).  
“Hello?” He asked a bit crankily, ready to shoo away one of the many poor bastards who thought they had the right to ask for his services in the sacred privacy of his home. He was surprised instead to see that young Gerard lad donned in his new priest uniform, and his sulky younger brother in a less formal t-shirt and jeans. In Gerard’s hands was a glass container with a lovely looking casserole.  
“Hello, ah...Brother Danielson,’ Gerard smiled cheerily, “My younger brother and I have been visiting some members of the church with thanks for welcoming us so kindly!”  
Usually, Hiram hated spending time with youngsters - little upstarts who thought they knew everything and could change the world with a bat of their naive lashes...but then he saw the steaming casserole and thought better of shooing him away, “Ah, please,” he said warmly, “Come in Gerard and...Franklin, is it?”  
“Frank,” the boy said curtly.  
“Right.” He definitely didn’t like this one, especially now that he could see all those terrible tattoos.  
“Thank you Brother Danielson,” Gerard smiled again, taking a step inside.  
“Please, call me Hiram. This way to the kitchen.”  
Hiram’s kitchen was beautiful and Spanish themed, with large windows letting in warm sunlight. Gerard set the casserole on the breakfast bar and took a seat, trying his best not to appear awkward.  
“Oh, that looks wonderful,” Hiram said, eyeing the casserole greedily. He was also known for his gluttony, one of the seven sins he had decided weren’t quite as bad when it applied to him. “Did you make that yourself?”  
“Hmm?” Gerard said, “Oh...yes, I love cooking.” A lie. Gerard couldn’t make anything more complex than coffee and maybe scrambled eggs. Lindsey had made the casserole. He knew the plan was more complex than just killing this guy so blatantly, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she had poisoned it.  
“Uh, excuse me,” Frank said, finding that moment to be an appropriate time to begin his part of the plan, “Could you show me where the restroom is please?” Someone kill me, he thought bitterly, hating to have to speak like a polite little kid.  
“Of course,” the priest said, eyeing Frank with a certain disdain that he didn’t give Gerard. Of course - everyone always liked Gerard more. He walked to the entryway of the kitchen and pointed down the hallway to the right. “Just down there, it’s the last door on the left side.”  
“Thanks,” Frank said, trying for a sheepish smile. It wasn’t returned. Frank rolled his eyes and waited for the man to go back into the kitchen where he began chatting to Gerard. Oh God, he thought, small talk: Gerard’s biggest weakness. Instead of going to the bathroom on the first floor, he bolted up the stairs - what he was looking for would more easily be found in Hiram’s personal bathroom than the powder room.  
Once he reached the top of the stairs, he realized his dilemma - this guy had dozens of fucking rooms! “What the hell?” Frank muttered under his breath, trying doors and finding an office, a library, a laundry room. This was going to take a while - he just hoped Gerard would keep the old man talking.

“So,” Hiram said, taking a seat next to Gerard after getting them both plates for pieces of casserole, “I take it you studied at Salem Novus’ University of Theology?”  
“Uh...yes…” Gerard replied, realizing too late that he barely knew anything about what had been his little sister’s dream school. “The experience was very...enlightening.”  
“Was it?” Hiram spoke through a mouthful of food.  
“Yes...I found myself uh...getting closer with God almost every day.”  
“Well,” Hiram laughed, “You certainly had a better experience than I did. I found most of my professors to be a bunch of pretentious charlatans.”  
Gerard forced a laugh that he hoped was convincing, biting back the urge to say, ‘look who’s talking.’  
“I take it you’ve seen my television programs? I don’t do them as often any more, but back in the day, I was the most popular evangelist in these islands!”  
“Yes,” Gerard said, trying not to sound bitter, “My mother loved your show. She almost tried out your um....enhanced prayer program. What was it called?”  
“Pay-to-Pray? Ah yes, one of my most successful projects. But you said almost? What changed her mind?”  
She came to her senses, Gerard thought. Instead of saying that, he chewed on a bit of casserole (now confident that it wasn’t poisoned after watching Hiram gorge himself with it). “I don’t know, I guess she just found it a bit impersonal...paying someone else to pray for you.”  
Hiram laughed again, this time a bit less heartily, ready for an argument to take place. “I understand that concern. Many people have a problem with what I do, but you see, as a messenger of the Lord, I have a closer connection to Our Father. The prayers of his servants are more readily answered, and if I can use that gift to help answer the prayers of others, then why not? At a cost of course - we can’t have the servants of the Lord living in poverty!” Another laugh.  
Gerard looked around at the beautifully designed kitchen in a mansion that could have housed ten families, “No, of course not. God forbid.”  
“But what am I explaining all of this to you for? You’re a smart lad, fresh from University. You have all the world’s knowledge in that head of yours don’t you?”  
Gerard smiled uneasily, “I still have much to learn, Brother.”  
“Hmm,” Hiram nodded with approval, “A humble youngster. Your kind is hard to find these days. You know, Gerard, I will admit that I had some doubts about you, but I think I quite like you.”  
Ugh, Gerard thought. “Thank you,” he said.  
“Now,” Hiram began, leaning over to take another cube of casserole, “About your brother Franklin-”  
“Frank.”  
“My apologies. Frank. I don’t mean to judge - of course, I am the last to do so, but he seems...like a troubled youth.”  
Gerard sighed, “He can be at times.”  
“Are you...concerned for him?”  
“Ah...well, I used to be, but I think his joining the St. Helena Angels will really give him a supportive group of peers to socialize with.” This was the same explanation his mother had given for sending him to youth group at Our Lady of Sorrows, and the repetition of her words burned in his mouth. “Plus, I’ll be there to watch over him.”  
“Mm,” Hiram smiled, “Such a caring older brother. Speaking of Frank,” he looked over his shoulder at the doorway, “What’s taking him so long?”

Frank finally came to a bathroom on the second floor, but it turned out to be another guest bathroom. Cursing under his breath, he rushed up the stairs again, opening doors until he found the master bedroom with a bathroom inside of it. No one was inside, but he still crept silently and with quiet breaths.  
“Fuckin Lindsey,” he mumbled angrily, “Making me do her weird voodoo shit.” He opened the door to the bathroom and began looking for one thing - a hairbrush. Whatever spell she was planning to cast required a significant amount of the victim’s hair. For this reason, her target wasn’t just an asshole, but an asshole with a full head of hair. Hiram definitely fit the first category, and though he was greying, his hair was as full as ever.   
Frank fell to his knees and began searching under the sink - no hairbrush there. He rose back to his feet and began searching the shelves of the cabinet above the toilet. There was mostly medication and pills (some of which were for purposes Frank wished he could forget about). It occurred to Frank that there would probably be hair in the shower drain...then, no, he shook his head. He didn’t care how important this was - he was not going that far. He had to climb on the toilet lid to reach the top shelf of the cabinet, but he finally found the brush - made of dark wood and prickly black bristles. He quickly shoved it into his hoodie pocket and hopped down onto the bathroom floor. As he landed, his foot pulled on the rug around the toilet. He lost his balance and fell to the floor.  
Though his entire right side was on fire, Frank held his breath, hopeful that no one heard his fall. They couldn’t have, right? They were two storeys away! As he began to get up, wincing from the pain, he heard footsteps outside the door.  
“Hello?” It was a woman’s voice. A maid, probably. “Are you okay Mr. Danielson? I thought you were downstairs.”  
Frank looked around desperately, trying to think of a place to hide. Then his eyes fell on the bathtub - it had a shower curtain. He quickly scampered into the bathtub and drew the curtain, trying not to make the rings squeak as they slid across the pole. The curtain, though a deep red, was slightly translucent, and he could see the vague outlines of things in the bathroom - which meant someone standing on the other side could see him too.  
“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, “Fuck Lindsey’s stupid plan and the shit I have to do for her.” He quickly knelt down and lay down on his back in the bathtub (thanking God that it was dry) and tried not to think of the fact that he was lying in the place where Hiram was most frequently naked and wet.  
As his back landed on the floor, the maid opened the bathroom door. He heard her take a few footsteps in his direction. He held his breath and closed his eyes, hoping his heart wasn’t beating as loudly as it sounded.  
The maid took a few more steps and then, “What in the name of…”  
Oh shit, Frank thought, shit, shit, shit.  
Another step. And then, “I could have sworn I closed this.” The sound of the cabinet closing, retreating footsteps, and then the door closing.  
Frank sighed with relief as he sat up, but he heart was still racing. He drew the curtain and climbed out, waited a few seconds before leaving the bedroom, and then bolted down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn’t bump into the maid on his way down.

“Would you like another piece of casserole?” Hiram asked, “I must insist, after all, you made it.”  
“Oh, no thanks,” Gerard patted his stomach, “that’s enough for me.” In truth, it was the first thing he had eaten all morning, unless some of Lindsey’s coffee counted as breakfast.  
“Well if you’re not going to eat any more of your own food, at least take a little something from me.” Hiram walked over to a counter where he had little cubes wrapped in silvery paper. He grabbed a handful and dropped them into Gerard’s hands.  
“Umm...thanks...what are these?”  
“Gourmet fruit gels,” Hiram smiled. “I love them but my doctor says I shouldn’t eat so many, but bah, I don’t really listen to him.”  
“Right?” Gerard said, “Doctors are the worst.”  
Just then, Frank walked quickly into the kitchen, breathing quickly and red in the face. “Oh, hey,” he said, trying to lean casually against the wall, “What’d I miss? Anything?”  
“Uh…” Gerard said, eying Frank, “Not really. Are you um...okay?”  
“Yup,” Frank smiled tightly, “Took care of um...everything.”  
Gerard took the meaning in his voice and nodded ,”Well Hiram, it’s been nice talking to you, but Frank and I really must be on our way.”  
“Really? Hiram asked, genuinely disappointed, “So soon?”  
“Yup,” Gerard said, who was being pulled by Frank towards the door, “We got lots of planning to do. Gotta get the Angels ready and all.” By then, Gerard was already halfway out the door, “See you on Sunday!”  
“Ah, Goodbye!” Hiram said, rushing to the door so that he could at least wave them off. “Huh,” he said, closing the door and returning to his living room for afternoon devotions. “What an odd pair of brothers.”

Frank’s nervousness turned into glee and he giggled all the way to the warehouse.  
“Aww man, Gerard, you should have seen it, she was this close to finding me!” He held his thumb and forefinger a few millimetres apart to emphasize his point, “That was so close, it was amazing!”  
Gerard laughed and rolled his eyes. “I think it’s more amazing that it’s possible for a human to be such a hypocrite.”  
“What, you mean Hiram? How did your conversation go.?”  
“Not bad actually. I kinda wanted to punch him, but he didn’t suspect anything, even with how weird you acted towards the end. And how long it took you to find a freaking hairbrush-”  
“He has a lot of rooms, okay?”  
“Anyway,” Gerard opened his hands to reveal the gifts Hiram had given him, “he gave me these.”  
“The hell are those?”  
Gerard giggled. “Like, gourmet fuckin fruit gels.”  
“Gourmet? Aw man,” Frank laughed, “you’re really rolling with the fat cats now, aren’t you?”  
“Shut up.”  
“Only if you give me some, I’m fucking starving. I didn’t even get any casserole.”

That night, they met again at the House of Wolves, ready to move on with the next stage of Lindsey’s plan. When they arrived, they found Jen pouring some white powder into a small cauldron over Lindsey’s fireplace. Lindsey was kneeling down, readying some items beside the cloth on the table, and the rest of the girls peered over her shoulder, excited to find out what she was going to do.  
“Did you get what I asked for?” Lindsey asked, looking one last time at the book containing the ritual she would follow.  
“Yeah,” Frank muttered, pulling it out of his pocket and tossing it to her. “Why do you need some asshole’s hair again?”  
“Because the spell will only work if there’s a physical link with him.” Ray jumped in, happy to share some magical knowledge. “Why do you think people used to be so scared of witches finding their hair and nail clippings?”  
“I didn’t?” Frank said, squinting, “I mean, magic is cool, but you two are such fucking nerds about it.”  
Lindsey rolled her eyes, pulling clumps of hair from the brush and ignoring the grossed out looks on everyone’s faces, “Call us nerds if you want, but we’re the reason anything gets done in either group.” She tossed the now hairless brush back at Frank, who immediately dropped it onto her couch.  
“Okay,” she said, “Everything’s ready.”  
Everyone crowded around her, getting a good look at the items she had laid out on the table: Hiram’s hair, the knife she usually kept strapped to her leg, two feathers, (one white, one black) and a black mortar and pestle.  
Lindsey began the ritual by lifting the knife. She took a deep breath and began to speak.  
“Scarlet is the blood of the Virgin, shed at the prophet’s hand.”  
She quickly slashed one of her palms, and Gerard had to look away. The Band of the Serpent’s Son hadn’t performed the Filling of the Cup in some time, and the sight of bloodletting now seemed as horrific to Gerard as the first time he saw it. He felt Frank take his hand and hold it tightly. Lindsey squeezed her fist over the cauldron and allowed the blood to drip into the white powder, which turned into a fleshy pink as the blood spread and sizzled. She then took up the tangled clump of grey hair and tossed it in. It cracked and withered, releasing a foul smell into the air.  
“Inside now lies the link to the monster disguised as man.”  
She tossed the white feather in and the odor got worse.  
“Now lost is the innocence of the dove.”  
Then the black feather.  
“Instead the crow sweeps down from above.”  
The mixture began to hiss, burning into a greyish brown. Lindsey held her hands out towards the fire and closed her eyes, allowing the last words of the incantation to come out of her.  
“So desperate for carrion was he. Instead of peace and harmony. Now let this omen not bode well; turn his Heaven into Hell.” The group waited in silence, awed at the ritual that had just taken place. A sort of reverent quiet had settled over them and no one wanted to be the one to disturb it first.  
Lindsey looked around and grinned, “Well this needs to stay over the fire for a bit, so you guys should probably find something more entertaining to do than just standing there.”  
That was enough to disperse the crowd, and they went back to their usual quiet chatter.  
Gerard scratched his head, trying to make sense of the jumble of words Lindsey had put together. “What do you think all of that meant?”  
Frank shrugged, “Who knows? My sister and her weird poetry.” After a few moments, Frank decided he wanted a coffee and went into the kitchen to make two for him and Gerard.  
Gerard stood there awkwardly, not knowing if he should follow Frank or wait by himself as everyone else talked among themselves. To his relief, Lindsey came over to talk to him.  
“So,” she said with a sparkle in her eye, “Are you ready?”  
“For...what? The next step? You still haven’t told us what that is yet.”  
“No silly, you told me you were going to show me your powers.”  
“Oh…” Gerard stammered, ‘I uh...I dunno if that’s such a great idea. I haven’t practised them in a while and-”  
“So what?” Lindsey laughed, “Rusty powers are better than none at all, right?”  
“Uh…”  
“Don’t be so modest; Ray told me you developed your’s faster than anyone he had seen.”  
“Oh yeah,” Gerard said quietly, remembering the excitement of feeling as if he had been some sort of special ‘chosen one’. The feeling of being so gifted at his powers fell flat and hollow when he didn’t have much use for them anymore.  
“Come oooon,” Lindsey insisted, pulling him outside, “It’ll be fun. Maybe you’ll stop sulking so much.”  
Gerard sighed and allowed himself to be pulled outside. It was a beautiful night and the forest around Lindsey’s house was much less foreboding than the one the Band of the Serpent’s Son had used. The forest on Dolorosa had always seemed a bit sickly - the trees were crooked and bent into scary shapes - one of the reasons people kept away from it. The trees around Lindsey’s house grew tall, with full, healthy foliage. Their surroundings were even nicer in the bluish light of the moon.  
“Now come on,” Lindsey said, “Show me what you got.”  
Gerard took a deep breath, “I mean...I can try, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be very impressive. I haven’t really done much to keep up my skills…” Even though he was hesitant, he still tried, hoping that he wouldn’t embarrass himself too much. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart and closed his eyes, trying to remember what he had to do to channel his powers. Deep breaths, he told himself. He tried to loosen up and forget the stress and anxiety that came with not knowing what was going to happen next in his life. He tried to imagine himself floating…  
Lindsey gasped, “Oh my gosh!”  
Gerard felt the odd feeling in his hand - the feeling of air being let out of a balloon. He opened his eyes and saw the little silvery gusts of wind swirling around in his hands. He remembered the joy he had felt when Frank had first seen his powers, how happy he had been to finally see something in himself to feel good about. He felt a laugh come out of him - a full joyous laugh that he hadn’t experienced in a long time.  
“Wow, this is great,” he said, making shapes with the wind in his hands, “I forgot how amazing it feels to do this!”  
“It looks amazing!” Lindsey exclaimed.  
Gerard raised his hands to his face and gently blew on them, sending a wind at Lindsey. It swirled around her hair and sent her pigtails whipping around. She began to laugh and ducked away, dodging as Gerard began to playfully aim pockets of air at her. For a second, Gerard felt an intense feeling of nostalgia. The memory of goofing around with Frank at the Band of the Serpent’s Son came back to him, and in that moment, Lindsey looked exactly like her little brother. Gerard froze as the connection between the two moments settled in his mind, his face falling a little at the remembrance of golden days that were no more.  
“Gerard?” Lindsey asked, her smile disappearing when she saw the look on his face, “Are...you okay?”  
“Huh?” Gerard snapped back into the present, “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Sometimes I kinda zone out.”  
“Is...is it because of the thing that happened with Jormungand?” Lindsey asked quietly, “I mean, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, “ she said quickly, “it’s really none of my business.”  
“No, it’s...it’s fine,” Gerard said, “It’s not cause of that, it’s….” but he didn’t really know how to describe what he was feeling. Was it possible to feel hollow, yet so full of emotions at the same time? How could he explain that? “I mean…” he finally decided, “I guess it’s partly cause of that. My mind has been kind of scattered ever since - like more than usual. Sometimes I remember things that have happened and uh...people I’ve lost. And then I remember that I can’t really go back to them because I...well...Jormungand...we destroyed everything.” A sudden image of a house collapsing and the twitching of a young girl’s arm came to his mind. “And everyone.”  
Lindsey stared at him, not knowing how to follow up with what she had heard. She didn’t ask, but the ‘and everyone’ at the end had been enough to let her infer that he had lost people he cared about.  
“I...I don’t know what to say,” she finally replied. “Sorry doesn’t even begin to-”  
Gerard cracked a little smile, “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything.”  
“I know, but-”  
“And you definitely don’t have to feel sorry for me. I’m doing better now.”  
“Okay,” she said reluctantly. She still looked concerned for him, so he blew another gust of air at her, this time enough to throw her off balance. She fell over and began to laugh as Gerard apologized, not realizing that he had used so much energy.  
As she quieted down, the two of them noticed that Frank had been standing at the door for the past few moments - long enough to see Lindsey get knocked over. Memories came flooding back to him too.  
“So this is where you've been,” he said to Gerard, with an odd tone in his voice. He was holding two mugs of coffee in his hands. Then he looked at his sister, who was still sitting on the ground. “You two can come inside now - Jen says your powder’s ready.” He turned and slipped back into the house without another word.  
Gerard and Lindsey looked at each other, aware without communication that something had just happened between the three of them that none of them really knew how to explain. Gerard helped Lindsey to her feet and they walked back into the house with an odd feeling in the air that something had changed, but not really quite knowing what that was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'mmmm so glad I fit gourmet fruit gels in there. If you dont get that reference, go watch "My Chemical Romance - In the studio 2002". Or just look for the isolated clip of Gerard saying it. It's pretty great.  
> Also yes, I stole Hirams name from WTNV, don't judge me.


	24. House of Wolves VI: Burn The House Right Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take a wild guess.

House of Wolves VI: Burn The House Right Down

Gerard and Lindsey rejoined with the rest of the group, who were then all waiting expectantly by the cauldron to see how Lindsey would proceed. The mystery and curiosity outweighed the amplified smell of the burnt items.  
Lindsey removed the cauldron from the fire and with her knife, and began to scrape out chunks of the charred powder into five poultice bags, which Jen began to bind tightly at the ends so that the contents wouldn’t fall out.  
“So what do we do now?” Ray asked.  
Lindsey picked up one of the small bundles and held it up for everyone to see, “Me and a handful of others will place these around our old ‘friend’ Hiram’s house.” At the mention of Hiram, nearly every girl in the room either groaned or swore angrily under their breaths.  
Frank looked confused, “And then? These are poultices right? What are you gonna do, heal the asshole out of him?”  
Lindsey smiled darkly. “I guess heal is an interesting way to put it. He’ll definitely be better after we’re done.”  
“Done what?” One of the guys asked, tired of the truth being skirted around.  
Lindsey turned to him and the smile melted off her face, “We’re gonna burn his fucking house to the ground.”  
The room went silent. The girls were quiet from a sense of shared anger. They all nodded in agreement with Lindsey’s plan. The boys looked horrified.  
“What?” Gerard exclaimed, “I mean I know this is serious, but I didn’t think we’d be hurting anyone.”  
“If I recall, your current position in the church used to belong to a man now in the hospital for mental instability - that we caused,” Lindsey reminded him. “This is no time to be second guessing me - you already agreed to-”  
“But I never agreed to kill anyone!” Gerard insisted. His heart began to race and he could already hear his voice changing from the tightening of his throat. His eyes were beginning to burn, but he refused to cry in front of everyone.  
“Linds,” Ray stepped in, sensing Gerard’s panic, “Gerard has been through a lot. After what he’s seen...this might be too much for him. And he’s right. We never agreed to murder.”  
Lindsey sighed, “Will you relax? All I wanna do is humble him a little bit - take away his precious mansion that he doesn’t need or deserve. I did my homework. I know when he’ll be out of the house; I’ll make sure we do it at the right time, okay?”  
Gerard nodded despite his lingering feelings of uneasiness, “Okay. Fine.”  
“And what are the rest of us supposed to do?” Patrick asked.  
Jen stepped forward and addressed the group. “The rest of you will be here with me. At exactly twelve in the morning, I’ll lead the chant Lindsey gave me while she and the others plant the poultices.”  
The boys murmured in agreement, supposing that this was easy enough. They were familiar with rituals that required chants from more than one location.  
“Uh,” Frank raised his hand, “Quick question. If you wanted to set this guy’s house on fire, why didn’t you just ask me? Or like...any of the other guys with fire links?”  
“Because that’s not how this works, Frank,” Lindsey said sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “How many times do I have to explain this? We can’t just take shortcuts, that would undermine the whole point of earning the-”  
“Oh right, I forgot,” Frank sneered. “The whole holier-than-thou approach.”  
Lindsey glared at him. “It’s not holier-than-thou, and in fact I would prefer if you didn’t use the world ‘holy’ to describe anything I do.”  
“Oh my God,” Frank rolled his eyes. “You’re such a fucking-”  
“Don’t use that word here!” Lindsey yelled.  
“You literally say fuck all the time!”  
“No, not that, stupid!” Lindsey smacked her palm to her forehead. “I- ugh, you know what? Nevermind. What I need to do now is decide who’s coming with me to the house. I want all my girls here because they’re more familiar with the chanting style, so I’ll take some boys with me. Preferably the most experienced.”  
“I’ll come,” Ray offered. “Gerard and Frank have already been to the house, so they should come too. And we can take Bob - he’s almost as experienced as I am.”  
“Okay,” Lindsey nodded. “So we have a plan then. I’ll explain the details on the night of - which will be Friday.”  
“Friday?” Frank asked, “Why wait that long? What else do you need?”  
“Friday is the next full moon,” Jen explained trivially. Lindsey had spent hours upon hours teaching the House of Wolves about the Lunar cycle and making sure they kept up to date.  
“...And?”” Frank was still confused.  
Jen sighed, “Rituals are always more potent during full moons, duh.”  
“Oh,” Frank said dryly, “Of course. Silly me for not knowing the correlations between rituals and the fucking moon.”  
The two groups then said their goodbyes, agreeing to meet again on Friday before splitting up to complete the ritual.

The plan: five bags, five people, five positions. The spell called for the poultices to be placed at the most north, east, west, southeast, and southwest walls and corners outside Hiram’s house. Though it was night, the full moon illuminated the whole house. Gerard was worried about being so well lit, but tall the lights were off, and he guessed Hiram was out doing some late-night...whatever it is slimy charlatans did when they weren't busy preparing sermons in awe of their own humble righteousness.  
Gerard stood in the bushes that clung to the southeast portion of the large house. It was a chillier night than usual, and he clung to his sweater, the hood of which he had pulled over his head. He felt like a dumb kid pretending to be sneaky, but having the hood up made him feel slightly more comfortable with trespassing on private property...and also setting that property on fire. Gerard placed his poultice in the bushes there, glad to be rid of the foul smelling bundle. He then retreated to the bushes in the backyard - the meeting place for the rest of them when they were finished with their individual tasks. Ray met back up with him first, then Bob, then Lindsey. The last to regroup was Frank, who had the job of setting all the planted poultices on fire, then returning back to join them afterwards.  
Frank sprinted from his position to the next, making sure he rounded the house in a counterclockwise fashion - apparently the bags had to be set on fire in that particular order. His heart raced even faster when he had to run across the front lawn to get to the next poultice, but Hiram lived in a neighbourhood full of rich people past the middle-age of their lives - no one was going to be awake when it was nearly midnight. He knelt down by each one, quickly channeling his powers for just a brief spark. He had never used his link like that before, and it took more energy out of him that he expected it would. When he finally made the full round and joined the others in the backyard, he was panting not just from running, but from using his power in such quick bursts.  
“You okay, Frankie?” Gerard asked. In the light of the moon, it was easy to see the concern on his face.  
“Yeah,” Frank huffed, brushing him away, “Why does this guy’s house have to be so frickin big, jeez.”  
Lindsey shushed them and looked down at her watch, mouthing the seconds as they passed by. As she waited, a few of the bags began to spread fire to the surrounding bushes. They could hear the crackling of the fires as they slowly began to spread.  
“Uh…” Gerard began, starting to get nervous, “Lindsey?”  
“Wasn’t the whole house supposed to catch on fire?” Bob demanded, “It’s just a few bushes and someone’s gonna notice before we even-”  
“Hush,” Lindsey said absently, waiting for her second hand to reach twelve. When it finally did, she looked up at the house with an angry glare. “The man who killed the Virgin once walked upright, holy and well,” she recited, “To gain Her favour, I have turned his Heaven into Hell.’” She paused expectantly. “If Jen and the others did what I asked, the house will burn...now.”  
As the spoke, one of the poultices burst open and let loose a pillar of flames. It shot up high enough to reach the ceiling and began to elongate, shooting out until it became a wall of fire that stretched to the other side of the house - where the next poultice was. That poultice burst open as well and the subsequent pillar of fire behaved in the same way, cutting through the house to another side. The cycle continued until all five spots of the house had been connected by walls of flame. The big ending: a final ring of fire rose up from nothing and surrounded the house, beginning from the first bag to be lit, to the last. From a bird’s eye view, the fire created a terrifying pentacle. From the ground, it really did look like a scene from hell.  
“Okay,” Gerard said, trying to speak over the roar of the flames, “We should definitely go now.”  
Lindsey didn’t move or respond. She stood completely still, the light of the fire illuminating her face and reflecting off her eyes.  
“‘For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return,’” she finally whispered. “Ashes to ashes, you fucking bitch.”  
“Lindsey?” Ray asked, “Linds, what are you…”  
Ray was interrupted by a scream of anguish and pure fear from inside the house. Gerard froze and turned his head sharply towards the noise. He hadn’t heard anything like that in a long time…  
One of the the lights in the house had been turned on - the one in Hiram’s bedroom. All Gerard could make out was flames, but he swore he could have seen something...a humanoid figure flailing desperately. There was another yell - more drawn out, definitely from Hiram. It quickly died down as the fire spread out from its neat formation and overtook the rest of the house.  
“Oh my God…” Gerard said in horrified awe, not caring that he had used the forbidden name in Lindsey’s presence. “He’s...he’s in there.” His quiet voice rose to a yell as tears began to form in his eyes, “Lindsey, you said -!”  
“I said I knew when he would be out of the house,” she returned sharply, “And I did - now was not one of those times.” But she saw the look on his face and tried to soften her tone, “his maid wasn’t in the house, you know.”  
Gerard stood there in silence, shaking from anger. He had once again been used as a pawn to cause the death and destruction of someone else’s agenda. There were a million things he wanted to say, but he was to stunned to speak. Frank, however had no trouble voicing his thoughts.  
“Lindsey, what the fuck!” He yelled, “You fucking tricked us, we never agreed to-”  
“Yes you did!” Lindsey yelled back, “When you said the binding chant, you agreed to do whatever I asked of you. You can’t back out now!”  
“You manipulative bitch!”  
“Call me names if you want! What’s done is done, and the bastard deserved it anyway.”  
“He deserved to die?” Ray cut in, “What could he have done that was so horrible?”  
Lindsey exhaled with rage and looked up at the moon to calm herself. Her moment of victory had been ruined, but she felt she might as well defend herself.  
“What he did,” she began slowly, “Was try to force himself on a teenage girl. When he found out that she was not only disinterested and disgusted by him, but also had a girlfriend, he…” Lindsey paused. Her throat tightened from the effort of keeping her emotions down, “He killed her. He called it an accident. He said he rebuked her for her sins and she got angry and attacked him. He said he was only defending himself.” She laughed sadly and stared at the ground. “Fucking liar. She would never have hurt anyone, not even scum like him.”  
Ray was the first to speak after the silence that followed. His voice was cautious, as if he were scared of striking the wrong chord. “How...how do you know all of this?”  
“How do I know?” Lindsey repeated, seething. “Because I was the girlfriend he killed her over. She used to be part of the House of Wolves.” Her voice broke and the tears began to roll down her face, despite her efforts to hold them back.   
Another silence before Frank said, “Oh shit.”  
“Yeah,” Lindsey sneered, “So sorry if I don’t have a lot of sympathy for him. If Hell really does exist, I’m perfectly fine with ending up down there myself as long as I know he’ll burn with me. And even then, he’ll have burned twice.”  
The five of them stood awkwardly, not knowing how to continue from there. One of the lights in a house down the street flickered on. A few seconds later, they could hear the distant siren of a fire truck.  
“Come on,” Ray said gently, putting a hand on Lindsey's shoulder. He half expected her to shake it off, but she didn’t. “We should get out of here.”  
“Yeah,” she nodded. The five of them started to sneak away, camouflaged in the night by their black clothes.  
“Her name was Mary, by the way,” Lindsey said as they left, her voice hollow.  
“What?” Gerard asked.  
“‘The man who killed the Virgin,’ the part from the prophecy. She wasn’t a virgin, but her name was Mary.” She gave one last look at the burning house, wondering when the relief of revenge would finally kick in. So far she hadn’t felt anything. “And I guess that was good enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few of you have been saying that you like jealous Frank and you also like heartbreaking conflict and arguments. I've already planned everything out, so comments have an unlikely chance of changing anything, but lucky (or unlucky?) for you guys, I ALREADY have a whole bunch of suffering planned for the future.  
> Can't wait.


	25. House of Wolves VII: What I Wanna Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is basically really heartfelt conversations about feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, for the next chant I actually used an existing language, but I don't speak Latin, so yeah it's Google translate and not accurate.

House of Wolves VII: What I Wanna Say

By the time the boys returned to the warehouse, Gerard had calmed down a little. He was still shaken up from having caused the death of yet another person, but he supposed a rapist and murderer was less deserving of life than the people he had killed on Dolorosa. Even so, he had ended the lives of hundreds of innocents while only punishing one bad person. It didn’t exactly seem to break even.  
While Frank, Ray, and Bob explained to the others what had happened, Gerard sat in his usual corner, hoping that doing a few doodles would help to calm his nerves. Brendon came to sit down beside him, leaning over his shoulder to see what he was doing.  
“Your drawings are getting better,” he offered after a while.  
“Um...thanks.”  
“...Are you okay?”  
Gerard sighed. He was really tired of hearing that question, especially since the answer to it never changed. But then again, the lie he used as a response never changed either.  
“Yeah, I’m fine.”  
“No you’re not.”  
“Then why did you ask?” Gerard said sharply. He immediately regretted his tone when he saw how hurt Brendon looked. “Sorry, I just...I dunno. We killed someone today. We actually ended someone’s life. I thought we were working together to one day be powerful enough to make the world a better place, but if we have to kill people to do it…”  
“Yeah,” Brendon mused, “I mean death by fire sounds pretty horrible but...didn’t he deserve it? I mean I don’t know the full story, but I can understand why Lindsey would want to hurt him-” Brendon stopped, only aware of how his words sounded after they had left his mouth. “Fuck, Gerard, I didn’t mean-”  
“I know what you meant,” Gerard said sadly, “But you didn’t try to kill me after what happened with Ryan.”  
“That was different,” Brendon insisted, “Gerard, you were possessed! That asshole fully intended to hurt Lindsey’s girlfriend. And I bet he didn’t even give a shit about it either. He was probably sleeping peacefully about it this whole time.”  
“I...I guess,” Gerard managed, “But why do we get to decide who deserves to live and who deserves to die? I thought the whole point was that we don’t handle this much responsibility until we’ve earned it.”  
Brendon shrugged, “I dunno. To be honest, I have no idea what we’re actually supposed to do after we finish all these tasks.”  
“Recruit more members,” Gerard offered in a cynically hollow tone, “Find a new god to worship, get more power…” Gerard looked off into the distance as a horrible notion came to him. “Brendon? Do you think this is all pointless?”  
Brendon paused for a second before responding. “Is what pointless? The tasks, or...everything?”  
“Fuck,” Gerard laughed, “I meant the tasks, but when you put it that way, I guess...I don’t even know.”  
“Gerard,” Brendon sighed, “Look at it like this. Do you know 100% without a shadow of a doubt why you’re here? If your existence has a purpose or meaning?”  
“Um...no, not really.”  
“Okay. So why do you need to know the meaning behind everything else?”  
Gerard furrowed his brows. “I’m not sure I follow…”  
“When Ryan died,” Brendon said, daring to reference it directly, instead of simply calling it ‘what happened,’ “I was bent on finding some kind of meaning in his death. At first I was angry at you, but then I realized that it wasn’t your fault. Then I got angry at Jormungand. I wanted nothing more than to somehow get revenge on him - make him understand my pain. But then I realized...there was no point. Jormungand is an ancient primordial being from the beginning of fucking time with no concept of human love, and here I was trying to act as if the death of one mortal somehow meant something compared to the eons Jormungand had experienced, or the thousands he had probably killed before whoever trapped him down in his prison the first time finally did. So I mean...yeah, Ryan meant the world to me, and his death shattered my entire world, but...my world means nothing compared to everything else that’s out there, you know?”  
Gerard stared, wide-eyed for a few moments, not knowing what to say.   
“Uh, yeah.” Brendon laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, “Sorry, I guess I got carried away there. I don’t really share these thoughts very often.”  
“Brendon,” Gerard finally said, “I think you’re even more depressed than I am. I mean...you were never like this before.”  
Brendon shrugged again, “Maybe, but I didn’t say all of that for a pity party. What I’m trying to tell you is...maybe Ryan’s death is meaningless on a cosmic scale, but it still meant something to me, so he still meant something at all. It doesn’t really matter if what we’re doing has any real purpose; if it means something to us, then...that should be enough, shouldn’t it?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard decided uneasily, “I guess you’re right.”  
Brendon smirked, his old self shining through his current watered down state, “Of course I’m right.” He ruffled Gerard’s hair like he used to back in the old days. For the first time in his life, Gerard felt an unexpected comfort in the idea that nothing truly mattered.   
However, his cozy nihilism didn’t seem to help at draining away the significance of his nightmares when he finally fell asleep. The dream started in a different place this time. He was running down his street. His father was calling for him to return - for the first time, the story in the nightmare had actually progressed. His father grabbing at the back of his neck the last time had only resulted in a scratch, and he had managed to break free.  
He continued to run, somehow not out of breath in his dream, just scared out of his mind. His neighbourhood faded dimly and reformed itself as the trees in the forest around the ground where the Band of the Serpent’s Son once was. His dream self had dual memories though - a past where everything in reality had already taken place, and a present where he could do everything over again. Gerard ran through the dream forest, which seemed to grow and darken with each lunge he took. The trees twisted their scraggly limbs up into the the sky until they created a thorny roof through which little sunlight could enter. Gerard continued to run frantically, quickly becoming lost and scratching his limbs and clothes on the protruding lateral branches that seemed to reach out and grab him. He finally fell to his scraped and bleeding knees, losing his bearings for good after tripping and tumbling down a small incline. When he rose enough to sit up, he noticed a slowly approaching figure in the distance.  
“Frankie?” He called out, his voice quivering, “Frankie is that you?”  
But as the figure got closer, he realized that it was too tall and gaunt to be Frank, and Frank never wore long coats like that…  
Gerard’s heart raced as he realized who it was. The figure was still shadowy and far away, but he knew for certain that it was Doctor Solomon. As he neared, his image became clearer. Solomon was limping, ragdoll like, with broken and twisted limbs that bent in unnatural positions. He was completely scorched in some areas and the flesh that wasn’t charred black was raw and bleeding. His once white coat was in black-brown tatters. He pulled from his pockets a giant syringe and a pair of surgical scissors. The doctor continued to near Gerard, who seemed to have frozen in place, unable to even move his mouth to scream in terror. His head seemed to be deformed - the upper left side of his skull squashed inward like sagging papier-mache. Gerard was horrified, wondering what on earth could have done this to the doctor, and then he realized - the collapsing structure of a burning building would probably do the trick, and it had. Gerard had done this to him.  
The closer Solomon got, the more Gerard could see the inhumanly large grimace on his crumbling face. His mouth seemed to have defied the boundaries of human biology and stretched painfully from one side of his face to the other, revealing razor sharp teeth that were white despite the destruction of every other part of his body. This time, his eyes were literally dead - little more than gaping sockets. The doctor continued forward, shambling like a zombie and even letting out a horrible, hollow moan. Gerard still couldn’t move, and when he looked down he realized he was being held to the ground by the restraints of a doctor’s table.  
Gerard ducked his head and shut his eyes, trying to will himself into a different situation. Solomon was almost upon him. The dragging steps got closer and closer until the hoarse groans were right by his ear…  
Gerard heard the teasing snip of scissors, and then a hand on his shoulder.  
He screamed.  
And then he woke up.

It was all super embarrassing. He had to spend all morning (or afternoon - he never woke up in the morning) convincing everyone that the nightmare hadn’t been serious. It turned out he hadn’t just screamed in his dream, but screamed out loud too - loud enough to wake himself up. Frank and Ray were the most concerned and, it took the longest to get them to stop asking if he was okay or wanted to talk about it. He clearly wasn’t okay, and talking about it wouldn’t make him okay, so he went with his usual ‘yes’ for the first question with a definite ‘no’ on the second.  
His sketchbook ended up getting more out of him than his friends could. By the end of the day, he had drawn a detailed sketch of the monstrous Dr. Solomon from his dreams. Drawing usually made him feel better, but the dead doctor’s gaping chasm eyes were too much for Gerard, and he quickly closed the sketchbook after finishing the drawing, too creeped out by his own work to look at it any further.

They met that evening at the House of Wolves, noticing immediately the slight change in lighting. One of the black dots on the cloth laid out on the coffee table had turned to a silvery white and glowed with the brightness of a small LED. The girls had already seen the new addition to their scenery, and the novelty of the magic item had worn off - they sat scattered around the living room, chatting as the boys entered. Gerard and most of the others were immediately captivated by the glowing light, and crowded around to stare at it. Lindsey sat on the couch, quietly mouthing words from an old, musty, brown covered book that lay open in her lap. When everyone had fully settled, Lindsey closed the book and addressed the group.  
“‘The man who killed the Virgin still walks upright, holy, and well,’” she repeated the original prophecy. “‘To gain my favour, you must turn his heaven into hell.’ We’ve already finished that part. My girls are all aware of what that meant. I’m sure Ray has informed the rest of you guys too?” The boys nodded solemnly.  
“Well,” Lindsey continued, getting up from her seat on the couch, book in hand. She walked over to the coffee table and gestured to the glowing dot. “Our interpretation and execution of what we thought it meant seems to have been good enough. The next line of the prophecy -” she had committed it all to memory, “‘When the fiery deed is done, the Liar must see his wraith.’ I’ve been thinking a lot about what that means and what sort of ritual would be appropriate enough for the Wolf’s approval - then I realized that the second task is tied to the first one. When Mary was...murdered-” It took Lindsey a while to compose herself. She didn’t want to get emotional again, and not in front of even more people than last time. “When Mary was murdered, Hiram didn’t go to jail - that much is obvious; if he had been in jail, we wouldn’t have been able to avenge her death. The reason he was able to walk free was partly because of his own status, but also because is friend Ezra Timmons is one of the most influential men on Dolorosa.”  
“E-Ezra?” Gerard cut in hesitantly, “As in...the pastor at St. Helena Ezra?”  
“Yes,” Lindsey responded coldly, “That’s the one. I see the look on your face, Gerard. He’s not as nice as he seems. And what we’re going to do to him isn’t nearly half as bad as killing him, so you can stop looking like a deer in the headlights.”  
Gerard didn’t say anything more, wondering if he had gotten on her bad side.  
“So what are we going to do?” Frank asked.  
“Like the prophecy says,” Lindsey answered, “We’re going to make him see Hiram’s wraith. What could please the Wolf more than undermining the mental stability of one of the church’s top figures?”  
“And-” Frank said, “A wraith is…?”  
“A ghost or spirit,” Ray jumped in, “In some cases it’s considered to be an omen for someone who’s still alive, but for our purposes, the word still applies to-”  
“Alright, walking Encyclopedia,” Frank held up a hand to stop his friend from continuing and rolled his eyes. “You could have stopped at ghost.”  
“But yes,” Lindsey continued, “We’re going to make Ezra see Hiram’s ghost - preferably during a service on Sunday where everyone will see it.”  
“And how exactly are we going to do that?” Bob asked.  
“Latin chants,” Lindsey held up the book she had been reading from. “I would prefer to use the tongue of the rituals we usually speak for the Wolf, but I’m guessing a good number of the priests at St. Helena would know enough Latin to figure out that the song is in another language.”  
“Song?” Gerard piped up.  
“Yes,” Lindsey said, “Tomorrow, you’re going to start teaching your little angels a song in Latin. Most people there won’t even know what it means, and to the priests, it will be pretty well disguised as a Christian hymn. I want them to have it memorized by next week, so you’ll need to start teaching after tomorrow’s sermon.”  
“Oh…” Gerard was beginning to get nervous again, “How long is it?”  
“Don’t worry,” Lindsey assured, seeing the worried look on his face, “It’s only a few words. You should probably sing it in a round or something to make up for it’s length. The actual melody doesn’t really matter, so I came up with one that seems churchy enough. I’ll teach it to you outside while the others-”  
“Hey, wait a minute,” Frank interrupted, “You two are going outside again while we just sit here and wait?”  
“No,” Lindsey replied, glaring at him, “I was about to tell you what you were going to do before you rudely interrupted-”  
“Why don’t you teach me the song now too?”  
“Because it’ll be faster for me to teach just one person. Gerard’s going to be teaching it to a group anyways.”  
Jen could sense another argument coming on and quickly stepped in. “Lindsey wanted us to begin a research project to prepare for the next task while Gerard is doing this one.” Jen continued to explain what they would be doing as Gerard and Lindsey walked out, trying to ignore the pissed off expression on Frank’s face.  
They took seats on the slight slope of grass in front of Lindsey’s house, looking out at the dirt path that led to the surrounding forest.  
“Alright,” Lindsey said, “I think I finally have the chant memorized.” She paused for a second and laughed nervously. “You’ll have to excuse my voice - I’m not much of a singer.”  
“Oh,” Gerard said reassuringly with a smile, “It’s okay, I won’t be judging you or anything.”  
Lindsey took a breath and began to sing the chant in a slow, rolling melody. Her voice was low and full - a bit scratchy when she reached the higher notes, but as a whole, not unpleasant to hear.  
“O Spiritus. Veritatem revelare. Revelare mendax, in illusio abit.”  
Gerard waited a second after the short verse was finished before speaking. “Is...is that it?”  
“Uh, yeah,” Lindsey said quickly, recovering from the embarrassment of singing in front of someone else.   
She began to speak the words without a melody and asked him to repeat after her so that he could learn the lyrics. After a few minutes, he could recite the chant by heart, so they began to learn the melody. He listened to her sing it again and then followed along the second time, allowing his voice to come out clear and brightly, even though he was a bit nervous about singing in front of her as well.  
“Whoa,” Lindsey said after he was finished, “You’re a really good singer.”  
“Oh-” Gerard stuttered, not expecting to be complimented, “Uh...thanks.”  
“I'm serious, you’re like...really good.”  
Gerard tried to think of an appropriate response to her kindness, but couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound dumb. He just smiled and have a nervous laugh, hoping that would convey his appreciation.  
“You know,” Gerard said after a bit of an awkward silence passed between them, “Singing is kind of how Frank and I got closer. We found out we liked the same band - Plains of Mars - and we met in a park to play songs together.” Once the words left his mouth, he realized how dorky he sounded. “Uh…” he said, trying to recover, “You know Plains of Mars, right?”  
“Do I know them?” Lindsey asked, almost indignantly, “I’m the reason Frank even knows who they are! I’ve been a fan of their music for years!”  
“Really?” Gerard asked, eyes wide, “Frank never mentioned-” he stopped, trying to take the words back as he spoke them. They still had their effect, and even in the dark, he could see the slump of Lindsey’s shoulders.  
“So…” she said after a while, “He really never mentioned me to you at all, huh. Not even once?”  
“No,” Gerard replied quietly, regretting bringing it up. “I mean, he said something about parents, but-”  
Lindsey sat up and leaned forward. “What did he say?”  
“Uh…” Gerard began, wishing that he could change the subject, “He said they passed away. And that he had been living with a foster family.”  
“Mmm,” Lindsey grunted solemnly, “and did he tell you what happened to the foster family?”  
“Not really. He just said he wasn’t living with them anymore.”  
“They must have still been recovering.”  
Gerard furrowed his eyebrows. “From...what?”  
Lindsey sighed. “It was...one of the reasons why I left. When Frank and I got into a huge argument about Jormungand and the Band of the Serpent’s Son, and he...kind of lost control. Accidentally set a part of the house on fire and our foster parents got burned pretty bad. That’s probably why Frank freaked out so much with Hiram.”  
“Oh, shit.”  
“No, it’s fine,” Lindsey waved a hand dismissively, “I mean...I wasn’t happy about it or anything, but they were horrible parents. They didn’t really do that much to me because they knew I could beat the shit out of them, but Frank...well there’s a reason he’s so aggressive now. He learned how to stand up for himself after years of letting them treat him like crap.”  
Gerard bit his lip, not knowing how he felt about hearing this information. On the one hand, it felt like he was intruding on Frank’s past with the truth coming from another person. On the other hand, he understood exactly what Frank had gone through - or possibly never even had it as bad as Frank did. He had thought the fiery anger Frank felt about Gerard’s situation at home was just his protective nature, but now it occurred to him that he had been trying to keep his own struggle from happening to someone else.  
“I think…” Lindsey continued, “I think maybe that’s why he resents me so much. Because they always targeted him more than me. I tried to protect him as best as I could, but I wasn’t home all the time. I couldn’t be there to save him, and I wanted to but-” she looked away, cursing herself for being so easily worked up lately. She gained control of her voice, which had twisted with the threat of tears. “I couldn’t always be there for him. I guess he learned that he couldn’t depend on me, so when I finally reached out and tried to warn him about Jormungand...I dunno, it was like he didn’t want to believe that I cared about him. Like I was tricking him or something. Maybe he thought that one gesture wouldn’t make up for years of being a shitty sister - I think maybe...he was more right than I first thought.” Lindsey looked up at Gerard, who looked so sympathetic that she felt bad for making him feel bad. “Sorry if that was heavy,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, “to be honest, I probably shouldn’t have unloaded all of that on you. You’re just the only person who really understands....I mean, my girls need to see me as strong and independent, and talking to any of the other guys is out of the question. You’re just-” she sighed and shook her head, “Man, I’m really rambling. Sorry for dumping my heart out all over you.”  
“No,” Gerard said quickly, “It’s fine. I mean, I understand now why you care so much about being careful and not having powers until you’ve earned them.”  
Lindsey nodded. “We’re going to use them to make the world a better place, Gerard. No more shitty, abusive parents. I may not have been able to save my little brother, but there are millions of little brothers out there who I might be able to.”  
Gerard smiled, inspired by how hopeful Lindsey looked. He imagined them as superheroes, using their powers to do what the Band of the Serpent’s Son had dreamed of doing, but never could. Brendon’s words came back to him and he decided that he had finally found the meaning in what had become a meaningless life.   
When they returned to the living room, Gerard and Lindsey seemed to have a new understanding. The last time they were alone had ended in an uneasy change that they were both aware of, but couldn’t describe. This time, they came back with something more concrete - a sense of trust.

Frank rambled in his usual energetic way while the Band of the Serpent’s Son walked back to the warehouse, but Gerard was too lost in his thoughts about his conversation with Lindsey to really listen.  
“Ugh,” Frank said, “What we’re doing is so boring. It’s like some dumb research thing where we have to find out a bunch of shit about random people for a task or something? I dunno, I wasn’t paying attention. I think Bob has a crush on Jen, though, he was ogling her like, the entire time. Are you paying attention? Gerard? Gee!”  
Gerard blinked and nearly tripped over Frank, who had stopped abruptly in his path, waving his arms.  
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Cool.” Gerard then continued to walk, followed by an increasingly suspicious Frank.  
“What did you two even do for so long out there? I thought the song was short.”  
“It is,” Gerard said absently, “We were just...talking.”  
“About what?”  
“Nothing,” Gerard said, deciding that the contents of their discussion wasn’t something that Frank would be happy hearing about. “Just like...music and stuff. Did you know Lindsey likes Plains of Mars?” He asked, trying to be ironic.  
“Duh,” Frank rolled his eyes, “She’s my sister, of course I know.”  
“Well sorry,” Gerard responded sharply, annoyed that Frank hadn’t caught his joke, and increasingly pissed about their shaky sibling relationship, “maybe everything about her wouldn’t be a fucking mystery to me if you had thought to actually mention her.”  
Like most things he’d said recently, Gerard regretted his words and expected a snappy comeback, grumbling, or even a string of cuss words. Instead, Frank looked away and put his hands in his pockets. They continued to walk in silence, neither of them saying anything else for the rest of the walk home.


	26. House of Wolves VIII: Never Gave A Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealous Frank is jealous.  
> And dumb.

House of Wolves VIII: Never Gave A Care

The sermon the next day was one of the most uncomfortable Sunday mornings Gerard had ever sat through. He had experienced his fair share of squirming in his seat with disagreement to what was being preached, but today was different. Today, he wasn’t made to feel guilty because of his sexuality, or general unworthiness, but because he was now listening to a eulogy for a man he had played a part in killing. People found out about Hiram’s death pretty quickly - a well-known pseudo-celebrity's mansion going up in flames on a small island community wasn’t exactly going to go unnoticed. Everyone had made a big deal of it, calling him the island’s hero and most beloved figure. Renovations and construction on his decimated property to turn what had been his land into new church was to begin in a few months.  
“It’s what Hiram would have wanted,” was what Gerard heard most people say. “Oh that man was a saint,” others would testify. No one mentioned the fact that he was rapist and killer, and the more people showed their complete ignorance (or dismissiveness) to his crimes in the past, the less guilt Gerard felt over being an accomplice in his demise.   
After the sermon, Gerard began choir practice with the St. Helena Angels, leading the group of a dozen or so boys to the sectioned off area at the front of the chapel designated for groups of singers. He went through the preliminary introduction of a group leader, trying to remember how Simon had done it in the youth group on Dolorosa. He gave a brief and vague backstory about always wanting to be a singer and going to the SL Theology school, being so excited to put his two passions (church and music) together, yadda yadda yadda. Gerard thought he did a relatively good job, but Frank insisted upon having a mocking grin on his face the entire time and almost snorted when Gerard started talking about his ‘passion for the Lord’. The rest of the boys seemed eager enough, except for one or two who looked like they were only there to please their parents. Frank immediately took a liking to the moodier ones, going so far as giving them looks not dissimilar to the ones he gave Gerard when they first met.  
Gerard would roll his eyes or raise an eyebrow, clearing his throat to get Frank’s attention, as he was the one who usually wasn’t paying attention. As the lesson went on, Frank would continue try and make the other boys uncomfortable and Gerard jealous, but the boys seemed oblivious to what he was trying to do, and Gerard seemed too caught up in teaching the song to care. The boys learned the words quickly, having been experienced in singing hymns in Latin. None of them knew what the words meant, but as long as they pronounced them correctly, that’s all that really mattered.  
After they knew all the words, Gerard split the group into fourths and organized a round; the first group would begin, and when they were finished with ‘O Spiritus,’ the next group would join in, and then the next at the same time and so on. They had some trouble with tempo at first, but after a while, they began to sound really good. Most of the boys (except Frank) still had high singing voices, and Gerard began to realize that the name of the choir group wasn’t just for the religious imagery; the term Angels fit their capabilities quite accurately. When practice was over, Gerard felt quite confident that they would do a good job, and almost managed to forget that their beautiful voices would be used to cause chaos.  
The following week was interspersed with going to choir practice and visiting the House of Wolves to work on the research project for the next task. Gerard was beginning to love both, while Frank had mostly negative feelings for both. Throughout the week, Gerard’s sketchbook began to fill up as well, with images varying from small doodles to detailed sketches and scenes from the neighbourhood. Gerard had even managed to draw a portrait of Lindsey from memory, and he thought it looked pretty good. One day, he worked up the courage to show it to her, hoping she wouldn’t be too freaked out.  
“Oh my G-” she stopped herself before saying the name she had forbidden and laughed. “Gerard, you are so talented!”  
The two of them were sitting outside again while the others continued their project. All Gerard had seen was a map taped up to the wall with a bunch of pins in it connected by pieces of string. He didn’t really have a clue what was going on, but everyone looking through phone books and newspapers didn’t exactly look as fun as talking with Lindsey, so he didn’t ask.  
Their conversation eventually got back around to Plains of Mars, (this time without bringing up painful childhood memories) and Lindsey agreed to play some music. As it turned out, she had all seven of their albums on vinyl and knew the bass lines to half the songs on their first one. After everyone else had done a good amount of work on their assignments, Lindsey put the record on and took her electric bass out of the corner of the living room where it had stayed since the beginning of their meetings. Gerard had almost forgotten that she owned one.  
The guitar was a sleek black Fender Aerodyne bass, and conveniently matched all of Lindsey’s outfits. Everyone gathered around to listen to her play along, a couple of people singing along to the songs they knew. In a particularly pumped up song, she somehow managed to bend backwards while playing, going so far back that her head was lower than her knees.  
As the song progressed, everyone got increasingly more excited, yelling the lyrics and dancing around until it turned into a full out party - not as crazy as the ones the Band of the Serpent’s Son used to have, but still a lot of fun compared to what they had been doing before. Gerard even joined in on the dancing, singing along with every song because he knew them all by heart. Gerard couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed himself so much, and though his parents never allowed him to go to concerts, (not that there were any good ones in Salem Novus) he imagined that this was what it felt like. Everyone lost themselves in a mass of both angst at the world and love for each other and what fucking outcasts they had all become - that was the motivation behind most Plains of Mars songs. Everyone that is, except Frank. At first, he allowed himself to sway a little and he mumbled along to the songs, but after the first two, he became more and more moody until he just stood in the corner by the door with his hood up while everyone else danced and sang. He waited for Gerard or Ray to notice how sulky he was, but no one did.  
After about an hour, they had finished listening to the entire album, though they had only intended to listen to a couple of songs. They were all sweaty and tired from jumping around so much, and Ray decided it was about time to leave.  
“Aw man!” Lindsey said with a huge smile on her face. She was dripping with sweat but somehow looked even better, as if performing for a bunch of adolescents in a tiny space had been her calling all along, “We’ve gotta do that more often. That was great!”  
“Yeah,” Gerard laughed, “This was like...the most fun I’ve ever had!”  
From his corner, Frank scoffed and rolled his eyes, studying his nails nonchalantly. “Yeah, well I could have played along too, but I left my guitar in the house on Dolorosa, and we all know how that went.”  
The room went silent for what seemed like an eternity. By then, all the members of the House of Wolves more or less had a basic understanding of what had happened with Jormungand. Everyone first stared at Frank in awe, then at Gerard to see his reaction. Gerard said nothing and stood frozen in disbelief. All eyes turned back to Frank, and his stomach began to turn with all the unwanted negative attention. He may have wanted to be noticed, but not like this.  
“What?” He said defensively in almost a yell, holding up his hands in an aggressive shrug, “Can’t you guys take a fucking joke, Jesus Christ!”  
The room was still so stunned that no one chided Frank for the use of Jesus’ name in Lindsey’s house. Gerard opened his mouth to say something, then apparently thought better of it. His eyes quickly darted around to the many eyes staring at him, and the pressure was too much. He darted out of the house, slamming the front door in his wake.  
“What the fuck?” Lindsey spat once he had left, “What the actual fuck, Frank!”  
“It wasn’t-” Frank began, trying to make up for what he had said, “I didn’t mean to-” but he wasn’t used to being apologetic, and especially not to his sister. His remorse turned into anger. “You know what, you can all fuck off.” He held his middle finger high up in the air as he left, making sure to use the back door in the kitchen.  
Ray rushed outside to find Gerard leaned up against the house wall, safe from inside eyes by Lindsey’s dark curtains. No one inside dared to peek through the fabric for fear of what she would if they tried. Gerard sniffled and covered his face with his hands. He had only really cried in front of Ray once, and that had been embarrassing enough.  
“Gerard?” Ray asked softly, taking a cautious step towards him. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard finally managed, though his voice still twisted, “I’m fine, I just-” the anger and indignance rose up in him again and the tears began to spill over quickly. He didn’t say anything else for fear of how whiny his voice would sound, and allowed Ray to scoop him up into a hug. He clutched at Ray’s shirt, ashamed to be crying over a single comment, but willing to accept the comfort his friend provided. As much as he cared about Frank, there was so much he couldn't stand about his boyfriend. Frank rarely tried to hurt his feelings, but when he did, he managed to pinpoint the exact things Gerard hated about himself and exploit them to make him feel even worse. The only other person who had ever been able to make him feel so shitty was his father. He wanted to communicate all of this to Ray, but he couldn't produce much more than a few syllables at a time, interspersed with erratic breaths. Ray was good at comforting though, and never seemed to need a full explanation to understand. He just did.   
After a while, they made their way back the the warehouse, awkwardly saying their good-byes to the House of Wolves girls. Gerard was nervous to go inside and see Frank, knowing how awkward it would be if he was upset with him. His worries lessened when he saw Frank coming out to talk to him, and he quickly remembered that it was Frank who had been rude, not the other way around. The rest of the boys went inside, leaving the couple by the side of the building behind some scraggly bushes.  
“I uh-” Frank said quietly, “I’m sorry for what happened back there.” His attitude seemed to have changed drastically since his walk home. “That was a really fucked up thing for me to say.”  
Gerard didn’t affirm or contradict him, but it was clear that he agreed. The get together had been going amazingly for everyone else up until Frank decided to blurt out his comment.  
“I’m sorry,” Frank said again, this time a little expectantly. He was waiting for forgiveness.  
“I know,” Gerard responded.  
“Wh- that’s it?” Frank asked, “I mean, I know you’re mad at me, but I said I was sorry! You’re supposed to say it’s okay, Gerard. Gerard?”  
Gerard looked down at the ground, chewing the inside of his lip. “Is it okay, Frankie? Is it okay that you point out all the things I don’t like about myself? It’s like you don’t even care about how I feel.”  
In truth, how Gerard felt was the only thing that Frank cared about. How Gerard felt about a certain person in particular had been the driving force behind many of Frank’s recent actions and comments. Their first argument was beginning to come back to them - the time Frank had called Gerard a coward for being scared by the Band of the Serpent’s Son and not standing up to his father. At the time, Frank hadn’t known Gerard well enough to know how deeply his words could cut, but now he knew exactly the impact he had - and he had done it again.  
“I-” Frank stuttered, trying to come up with some way of defending himself, though he couldn’t think of anything, so he repeated himself. “Gerard. I’m sorry.” He leaned in to wrap his arms around Gerard, scared that he would be pushed away, but Gerard allowed him to stay there, eventually hugging him back.  
“It’s fine,” Gerard finally sighed, “It’s - just forget it.” He closed his eyes and rested his chin on Frank’s head.  
Frank pulled away enough to start kissing Gerard, who reluctantly kissed him back. He wanted to stay mad, but he couldn’t and allowed himself to be pulled in until their kiss turned from sweet to passionate. Gerard allowed himself to be pressed up against the wall of the warehouse, while Frank jumped to lock his thighs around Gerard’s waist. Gerard was actually enjoying himself until Frank unzipped Gerard’s hoodie and then began to pull at his shirt, trying to take it off.  
Gerard yelped in surprise and put Frank down as gently as he could. He tried to take a step back, but he backed into the warehouse wall. Frank still had his arms around Gerard’s neck and continued to try and move in closer.  
“Frank-” Gerard whispered harshly, “Frank stop, what if people see us?”  
“No one’s gonna see us,” Frank said breathily into Gerard’s neck, “It’s the middle of the night and we’re beside an abandoned fucking warehouse.”  
“Frank-”  
“If you’re so squeamish, we can lay out our sweaters as a blanket and go in the bushes-”  
“Frank!” Gerard pried his boyfriend’s arms off of him angrily, “I’m serious!”  
“But-” Frank knit his eyebrows together, “I don’t understand why you keep...I thought you weren’t mad anymore.”  
“I’m not saying no because I’m mad at you!”  
“Then why?”  
“Because I’m not ready, Frank!”  
“I don’t....” Frank started, clearly confused, “I thought that shit Doctor Solomon had given you finally wore off - and it was true, Gerard’s nightmares and headaches had become less frequent, but that had little to do with why he was so reluctant.  
“That’s-” Gerard stuttered, flabbergasted that Frank could have such little understanding, “That’s not what this is about! At all!”  
“Then what?” Frank demanded, beginning to get as angry as Gerard.  
Gerard took a shaky breath, trying to keep from yelling. There was just too much. Too many years of hating to look at his body in the mirror regardless of how fat or skinny he was at the time. Too many years of changing in the bathroom stalls at school instead of the locker room because all the other boys in gym class looked so much better. He had spent too much time despising the body he inhabited to just suddenly show someone all of it, regardless of how close he was to them. But then there was Frank, who seemed to be brave enough to do anything, now matter how he was clothed, if at all. Gerard didn’t expect Frank to get what he was going through, and what was more, after how insistent Frank had been lately, Gerard doubted his boyfriend even cared, no matter how much he claimed he did.  
“Nevermind,” Gerard said, picking up his sweater and walking back into the warehouse, “You wouldn’t understand anyway.”  
“I would understand if you told me,” Frank called out, but Gerard was already inside and angry all over again, no longer interested in hearing what Frank had to say.


	27. House of Wolves IX: Let the Spirit Come on Through Ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, I keep trying to do a thing where I have one sad chapter and then one happy (or at least less sad) chapter, but instead of varying between the two, they just get increasingly more sad.  
> Whoops.

House of Wolves IX: Let the Spirit Come on Through Ya

The following Sunday, Gerard readied the St. Helena Angels to sing in honor of Hiram’s death. Ezra had just finished the official eulogy for his friend, informing the congregation that the funeral service would take place after church was over.  
Gerard stood with his back facing the crowd, which in a way both comforted him and made him more nervous. His jumpy nerves that morning were largely due to the fact that they were about to summon a spirit to terrorize a man in front of dozens of people, but the artist part of him was also nervous to have his pupils perform the piece that he had taught them. Gerard never had someone look up to him before, (Michelle had always been enough of her own role model) but in the past few days, he had started to almost feel like a real mentor to the choir boys.  
As the congregation quieted, (still in sorrowful reverence of Hiram’s death) Gerard raised his conductor’s baton in the air. The handle was made of a dark brown wood, and the way the stick tapered almost made it look like a magic wand. Upon giving it to him a few days earlier, Lindsey had corrected him, saying that it really was in fact a magic wand that looked like a baton, and not the other way around.  
Gerard began to conduct and the boys began to sing, almost as if by magic the movement of his arms was drawing forth the sweet sound of their voices. He kept constant eye contact with Frank - though he had been mostly silent with his boyfriend lately, he needed Frank’s signal for when the spirit appeared, as his back was turned to the rest of the chapel. The specifics of the spell were beyond him, but Lindsey had explained that she enchanted the wand to only reveal Hiram’s spirit to Gerard, Frank, and Ezra, while everyone else in attendance would have no idea what was going on.  
Hiram continued the second part of his eulogy as the third section of the round joined in, letting the boys’ soft voices be the undertone for the remembrance of his friend.  
“Hiram was a kind man, as you’ve heard me say many times,” he spoke in a softer voice than usual, trying to keep from tearing up, “You all know that he made many contributions to the church and charity, but as his close friend, only I can tell you the full extent of his-” A pause here. Gerard looked up and saw the the pastor was clearing his throat and tugging nervously at his collar. Perhaps another bout of strong emotion? Gerard then looked at Frank, who stared intently at him and cocked an eyebrow, then subtly nodded his head in the direction of the chapel doors as if to say - ‘over there’.  
From Frank’s view, he could see a man at the very entrance of the church by the large main doors. This man, however, was translucent and a dark grey. His limbs misted away into nothingness around the feet and fingertips, and his eyes were pitch black sockets. It was unmistakably Hiram, and he was drifting his way wordlessly down the aisle.  
Frank looked out of the corner of his eye, trying to get a glimpse of the pastor while still concentrating on singing the song. Ezra’s speech had come to an abrupt stop, and he could no longer hide his surprise and abject horror at what he was witnessing.  
“H-Hiram?” He whispered. His eyes were wide and his lip quivered.  
The members of the congregation murmured to each other in confusion, wondering what direction this eulogy was supposed to be taking.  
“Hiram?” Ezra called out again, this time clearly enough for everyone to hear. He rubbed at his eyes and blinked rapidly, only to find that the image of his dead friend slowly making his way towards him continued on.  
“W-what are you...how are you-?” Ezra stuttered, completely flummoxed.  
At last, the final part of the song was nearing, in which the round ended and all the boys sang the verse again in a crescendoed unison. Gerard continued to direct them, putting all his strength into keeping focus and not turning to look at what was happening to Ezra. As their voices rose one last time, a ringing chorus of ‘in illusio abit,’ Frank saw Hiram’s ghost begin to rush forward, lunging through the air and soaring towards Ezra with pleading, grasping hands. Frank’s guess - Hiram had ended up in some realm of punishment and was trying in vain to use this brief return to the mortal realm to claw his way back for good. Ezra ducked behind the pulpit and yelped at the spirit flew over his head, then faded away as the song came to a close. He then ran weeping to one of the back rooms, leaving the chapel in complete silence and confusion. From the congregation’s point of view, their pastor had just had an extreme mental and emotional breakdown. From Frank’s point of view, it was just funny as hell.

The service had come to a sort of awkward early close, as the other priests explained that their colleague had had some sort of fit or hallucination and wasn’t able to continue the service he had prepared that day. Frank stood at the doors watching people leave and trying his best not to grin or smirk.  
“Don’t worry about it,” he would say to passersby, “My brother’s back there making sure he’s okay.”  
In the backroom where the communion wine was kept, Gerard was there indeed, awkwardly patting Ezra on the back while he rocked back and forth in a fold out chair in the corner of the room.  
“What happened out there?” Gerard asked, hoping his voice didn’t give away that he not only knew what had happened, but had caused it.  
“I...I don’t know…” Ezra mumbled, “It was...it was...oh, you won’t believe me, it’s absolute nonsense!”  
“Ezra,” Gerard said soothingly in the most comforting voice he could manage, “You can trust me.”  
“It was-,” Ezra gulped, crossing himself, “I know it couldn’t have been, but I swore I saw Hiram-”  
“In the congregation? Sometimes you think you see someone's face after they’ve passed-”  
“No! I mean Hiram’s...ghost.”  
Gerard knitted his brows together, trying to look perplexed and shocked, “Ghost? Ezra...I know you’re grieving, but-”  
“It was probably just my nerves,” Ezra said quickly.  
“Yes,” Gerard nodded, “It definitely was. Now I know you’re going through a horrible time right now, but I think it would be best for us to keep what you think you saw between just the two of us. It just wouldn’t be fitting for such a prominent member of the church to be talking about ghosts and whatnot.” Gerard didn’t know where this new subtle ability to manipulate was coming from, but it gave him both concern and confidence. There was no need for him to ask Hiram to keep what he saw to himself other than to seem more realistic though - Ezra calling out the name of his dead friend, then ducking and running away would be enough to get the rumour mills going.  
“I think you just need some rest,” Gerard added, “Some space to grieve properly. Perhaps you should stay away from large crowds for a while. Maybe even skip the official funeral service if it will be too much for you.”  
“Yes,” Ezra said shakily, “I...I think you’re right. Thank you for understanding, Brother Gerard.”  
Gerard smiled, “It’s no trouble. This is a hard time for all of us, but the only thing left to do is pray and ask God for guidance. My brother and I will definitely be praying for you - I can assure you of that.”  
“You truly are a Godsend,” Hiram said, waving Gerard off as he left. “Peace be with you,” he called out.  
“And also with you,” Gerard returned.

That night, the House of Wolves met again to discuss the next phase of their plan. A second dot had already begun to glow white - across from the first one, and a shining white line connected the two, similar to the walls of fire created in the destruction of Hiram’s house.  
“The fourth line of the prophecy says, ‘call down upon the pious a plague of bad faith,’” Jen explained to the group, “The research project we’ve been doing has been in preparation for this next part. Each of us has been gathering information on people around the neighbourhood - their addresses, times and places of work, notable deeds in the past - because each one of those people will be the…” Jen looked up at the ceiling, trying to come up with a friendlier term than ‘victims’. “Instruments,” she finally decided, “of the next task.”  
Lindsey nodded in approval, continuing from where her second in command left off, “All the people you’ve been researching are people like Hiram - well known people in the church who are undeserving of their good reputations. I won’t go into detail about what every one of them is guilty for, but quite a few of them were like Hiram and had a taste for girls less than half his age. Others liked to pocket money they collected for charity, some denounced family members and kicked their kids out onto the streets for their religious beliefs or sexual preference - all events we could find written about in old newspapers but were quickly forgotten about because it’s easier for the people in this town to believe what they want than see the truth.”  
“Uh,” came Ray’s voice. He held up his hand timidly as if he were in a seminar, “Quick question - we’re not going to like...do to these people what we did to Hiram right? I mean, you haven’t said that any of them were guilty of murder…”  
“No,” Jen responded, “The prophecy mentions a ‘plague of bad faith,’ Linds and I have been working on an enchantment that will basically bring out their true nature. In the middle of church, when the enchantment has its effect, the people we’ve selected will basically go into a frenzy. The masks of piety they use to hide who they really are will drop. They won’t be able to control themselves, but we won’t be forcing them to do anything. They’ll just be doing what they want to do anyway.”  
“Is anyone gonna get hurt?” Patrick asked.  
“Yeah,” Gerard followed, “What’s gonna happen to all the innocent people who aren’t involved?”  
Lindsey’s eyebrows lowered - she had clearly been caught off guard. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, “I...Gerard, this whole thing isn’t as simple as black and white morals. There’s a grey area where-”  
“Yeah,” Frank cut in, ready to start an argument, “The grey area’s okay once in awhile, but you basically spend all your time there.”  
“Frank,” Lindsey said sharply, “I don’t have time for an ethics debate.”  
“Because you can’t deal with being challenged,” Frank shot back.  
“Um,” Gerard said to Frank, “You seemed to be enjoying it when Ezra freaked out today. You were almost laughing.”  
“Whose side are you on?” Frank demanded, angered that Gerard had turned on him.  
“Guys!” Ray exclaimed, holding his hands out to calm everyone down, “I get where you’re coming from, Gerard. I really do. But we’ve come this far and - just think of all the people we can help when all of this is over. Some of the congregation might get hurt in the process, but if we don’t do this, we can’t help anyone.”  
Gerard sighed, not understanding how Ray always managed to seem so level headed about everything. “Fine,” he mumbled, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”  
“Gerard,” Lindsey said, softening her voice a bit, “You know, if you don’t want to be part of this, you can sit out for this task. I had originally planned for another choir song to be the catalyst for the enchantment, but maybe Jen and I can figure out something else-”  
“No,” Gerard shook his head, “It’s fine. I agreed to help you and I said the binding oath.”  
“Wow,” Frank mumbled, “It almost seemed as if you had a spine for a second, but that little burst of rebellion didn’t last very long.” No one heard him. They were too busy continuing to discuss what had to be done next.  
The House of Wolves had already started making new poultices - each to be placed under the beds of the people they needed for the task. They would need to know the times they would be out of their houses so that they would be able to sneak in. The poultices were still being prepared though, and the process would take some time, not to mention that Lindsey had to teach Gerard a whole new song. Lindsey and Gerard went outside to practice it, leaving everyone else to relax after their days of research. The second chant was as short as the first, and it didn’t take Gerard long to pick it up. When they had finished, they got into chatting about their two favorite subjects - art and music.  
A light wind picked up and blew some of the leaves around Lindsey’s house into a small whirlwind around them. Lindsey sat up straight as if suddenly remembering something she had forgotten, but seemed hesitant to say anything.  
“Uh, Gerard,” she finally managed. She looked uncharacteristically sheepish - Gerard was used to her being confident and doing whatever the hell she wanted. “Do you think it would be cool if you showed my girls your wind powers? They’ve been talking about it for a while and...I dunno, you don’t have to, I just thought it would be cool.”  
“Oh,” Gerard said, “Um...I guess?”  
“Cool!” Lindsey exclaimed with a smile, getting up excitedly to call everyone outside.  
As everyone began to form a clump on her front lawn, they decided that the others should show their powers as well, so that they could see some of all the elements. The boys in the Band of the Serpent’s Son were completely jaded with their powers and had no problem with flaunting little tricks to impress the girls. They oohed and awed and even applauded when someone managed to do something particularly interesting. There was a cackle of laughter when Brendon pulled some water out of the soil in the ground and made a stream that splashed Bob in the face. Everyone found it hilarious (except Bob).  
When it was Gerard’s turn to work his magic, he started off with small silvery wisps of air in the palms of his hands, slowly allowing the orb of wind to grow. When he released it, a wave went through everyone - not strong enough to knock people over, but strong enough to ruin quite a few hairstyles - this time, Brendon was the one fussing about it.  
“Oh yeah?” Frank said, beginning to feel competitive, “You think that’s cool? Look at this!” He held out both his hands at his sides, letting two pillars of flame burst continually from his palms. It hurt like hell, but he smiled triumphantly as all the girls gasped.  
“Hey Gerard, remember the first time I showed you this?” He began to make twisted figures and shapes in the air, allowing the flames to get dangerously close to the surrounding trees.  
“Uh, yeah,” Gerard said, concerned, “That’s cool, Frankie, just be careful with the trees-”  
“Come on!” Frank grinned, making balls of flame that he began to juggle, “Stop being such a mom, that’s Ray’s job. You gotta admit, this is way cooler than playing some dumb bass, right?”  
Gerard’s eyes went wide. “What?”  
Frank’s smile disappeared, and he stopped focussing on his fire show to look at Gerard, “Wh...I was just...cause before, she-”  
“That’s what this is about?” Gerard asked in disbelief.  
Frank could feel something rising up in him. The same feeling he got when everyone had stared at him for what he said to Gerard about the house on Dolorosa - the way his throat tightened whenever he got into a fight with Lindsey or thought about his foster parents. He was about to open his mouth to yell something in his defense, but someone called out-  
“FRANK, MOVE!”  
Out of nowhere, Ray tackled him to the ground. Frank’s head thudded hard, and his anger only got worse. He pushed Ray off and was about to start cursing at his friend. Then he heard all the yelling and saw that a large branch from one of the trees had fallen right where Frank had been standing - it would have fallen on him had Ray not pushed him out of the way. Frank’s face quickly began to heat up from shame - the branch had been on fire. In his moment of distraction, his fire had caught one of the trees, and now the fallen branch was spreading flames to the surrounding grass too, which was high and and full of weeds - perfect fuel for a fire to spread.  
“Frank!” Gerard and Lindsey yelled in unison. He had expected them to sound at least a bit concerned, but the tone in their voices was mostly one of anger.  
Everyone continued to panic until Bob and a few of the other water guys finally remembered how easily they could put the fire out. They quickly gathered their strength and pulled as much moisture they could from the ground and air. When it was done, the ground and some of the trees were charred black and crumbling. Lindsey’s home was never meant to look like a perfect suburban dream, but the fire had ruined the quiet pleasantness of her secluded area. Frank was still in the same spot, standing frozen in his angry embarrassment.  
“WHAT?” he finally called out, red in the face from all the people glaring at him, “STOP STARING AT ME!” He turned to Gerard, who was glaring harder than any of them, “IT WAS YOUR FAULT, YOU DISTRACTED ME!”  
There was still no response. Frank hated this. A shouting match, he could handle. He knew he could scream louder than anyone here - even Lindsey, but silence - silence was the worst. Silence meant he wasn’t even worth yelling at.  
Fuck, Frank thought, his heart beating quickly with the anxiety that came with deciding what he would do next. Storming out would just be a repeat of what he had done last time, but he couldn’t take all the people staring at him. His eyes frantically dashed over to Ray, who had recovered from Frank shoving him away. He looked serious and angry as well, but he could tell from the look on Frank’s face that knew how badly he had fucked up.  
“We’re leaving,” Ray said firmly. This was directed at Frank, but no one else was speaking, so everyone heard. Ray gave a brief and awkward apology to Lindsey and the other girls, promising that he would try to make it up to them and see if he could grow some new trees in the same spot the next time they came. Then he turned and swiftly wrapped his arm around Frank, guiding him quickly down the path away from Lindsey’s house. The rest of the boys followed without speaking, collectively ashamed and embarrassed for Frank. Gerard lingered and was the last to leave. He tried to think of something to say to Lindsey, but he couldn’t come up with anything. She didn’t seem to be mad at him anyway, and had no reason to be. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it before he left, trying to convey through one gesture that though she looked angry as hell, she wasn’t mad at him or any of the other boys. He squeezed her hand back and then slipped away.

“What the hell was that?” Ray had taken Frank aside for a stern talking to when they got to the warehouse. The initial angry silence had faded away, (except from Gerard, who sketched moodily in his corner) and the boys went back to their usual chatter scattered amid the abandoned machinery boxes.  
“I…” Frank began, wanting desperately to change the subject. “I don’t know. I get out of control sometimes, you know that. You guys took care of it anyway.”  
“But you nearly endangered all our friends, and yourself! What if I hadn’t seen the branch and no one else pushed you out of the way? What if there hadn’t been enough guys with water links to put out the fire?”  
“Well you were there and we had enough water,” Frank snapped, “It’s in the fucking past and there’s nothing we can do now, so I don’t know why you’re lingering on it so goddamn much.”  
“Frank!” Ray exclaimed with his arms out, “I don’t understand, how can you be so flippant about this? What if the fire had spread to Lindsey’s house?”  
“Maybe I don’t give a shit about Lindsey’s house,” Frank mumbled. “Have you ever thought about that?”  
Ray stared at him in disbelief. “Dude, I know you’ve had some rough times, but she’s your sister. You didn’t even apologize.”  
“Apologize?” Frank demanded incredulously, “She should be the one apologizing! She’s mad at me for stealing you away so now she wants you back and Gerard for herself-”  
“Wait, what?”  
“Don’t you see it?” Frank hissed, “You’ve been hanging out with her even more than me - like you used to before we started the Band of the Serpent’s Son. And it’s so fucking obvious that she likes Gerard.”  
“Okay,” Ray put a hand up to stop him, beginning to get angry. “First off: if you think there’s a thing going on between your sister and Gerard - go fucking talk to them about it. Don’t rant to me.”  
“Ray!” Frank wasn’t used to hearing Ray speak so harshly to him.  
“I’m not done.” Ray said sharply, “Second: Lindsey is not stealing me away from you, and you definitely did not steal me away from her when we were younger. I made a conscious decision to devote my time to our group.Yes, that meant spending less time with my friend, but considering our intentions, I thought the sacrifice was worth it. Third: the reason why I’m spending so much time with Lindsey now is partly because we’re the two leaders of this new operation, but also because-” Ray took a breath, knowing that his next words might cause another flare of anger, but he felt it needed to be said. “Frank, you’ve been being a total dick lately. Especially to Gerard. I like spending more time with Lindsey not because she’s manipulating me - it’s because she doesn’t fucking drive everyone away from her. Not everything is about you, but you think it is, or at least you act like it. Maybe that’s why Gerard’s staying away from you too.”  
Frank said nothing. Ray had completely expected Frank to scream at him, maybe even shove him, but - nothing. The look on his friend’s face was the most dejected Ray had ever seen him, but if no one else had the guts to tell Frank the truth, he felt it was his duty to do so.  
“Listen,” Ray said, softening up a bit, “I didn’t want to have to be so hard on you, but I’m just being honest.”  
“Thanks,” Frank finally returned dryly, “It’s nice to know I have a friend I can depend on to kick me when I’m down.”  
“Frank…” Ray grumbled, smacking his forehead. “See this is what I mean. You’d see that this isn’t about trying to make you feel bad if you’d start thinking how you affect about other people for once-”  
“You know what?” Frank yelled, beginning to make his way to the doors of the warehouse, “How about I give you some honesty of my own? You’re a fuckin shitty ass friend.”  
“Frank!” Ray reached out, but Frank was already leaving, with no intention of coming back for at least a few hours.  
Ray looked around at the other boys, who had stopped their chatting to listen to the tail end of the argument. When they saw him looking, they quickly went back to their conversations. Gerard didn’t even look up from his sketchbook at all. He was working hard on a drawing - another portrait of Lindsey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a TON of ideas for what to write after Fire at Will is done (which wont be for a while) but I'm having trouble deciding which to do next. The two I'm most excited about are my biggest options, but which ones would you guys prefer? (Since you'll be the ones reading them - hopefully) A short, one part songfic based on Early Sunsets Over Monroeville? (So zombie apocalypse starring Gee and Frank - you can guess from the song how that'll end) or a multi-part NOT based on a song in which Frank is Frankenstein and Gerard is Frankenstein's monster? The Frankenstein one would be a lot shorter than Fire at Will I think, and probably set in the Romantic era.  
> Thoughts?


	28. House of Wolves X: Ring Around The Ambulance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I've been really busy and may change update day to Sunday and maybe even every other weekend. I would rather have longer waits between consistent updates than some on time and some not. We'll see how it goes.

House of Wolves X: Ring Around The Ambulance

The following week was full of choir practices, which made things especially difficult for Gerard and Frank. When Frank had finally returned in the wee hours of the morning after storming out, he had given Gerard the silent treatment, which was just as well since Gerard had no intention of talking to him either. As the week wore on however, Frank began to get lonely. None of the other guys were talking to him, and he definitely didn’t want to speak with Ray - after all, it had been Ray who had dissed him in front of everyone, not Gerard.  
On the next Sunday morning, before they left for church, Frank attempted to joke lightly with Gerard, but his boyfriend seemed intent on sulking 24/7.  
“I’m sorry, Gee,” he finally managed, though his apology was mumbled quietly on their walk to church.  
“I know you’re sorry, Frankie,” Gerard said without emotion, “It’s just a matter of how long I can deal with you saying that all the time without acting like you mean it.”  
Frank didn’t say anything else and they continued to walk in silence. They spent the service without speaking too, as Frank was trying to get back on Gerard’s good side by not talking during the service. He even tried to look like he was paying attention instead of dozing off or letting his eyes glaze over, but Gerard didn’t seem to notice his efforts.  
After church, they changed their clothes and then went to the House of Wolves later in the evening. Gerard immediately took a seat between Ray and Lindsey, not even looking for a place for Frank to sit like he usually would. Frank crossed his arms and decided that he would rather stand anyway. He leaned against the back of the couch, trying to seem nonchalant as he looked over his shoulder to listen to the meeting.  
“Okay,” Lindsey said to the group when everyone was finally settled, “The poultices are ready.” She waved her hand towards the coffee table, where a bunch of the little bags sat together beside the glowing task cloth. “What we have to do now is group up and-”  
The room erupted into excited chattering and movement as everyone rushed to get into groups of their liking.  
“Ugh,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, “Freaking children. Anyways, each poultice has a tag with an address on it. Jen and I have already planted a few that we could only do during the day - the rest need to be done while it’s getting dark.”  
Everyone continued to figure out their groups, most people linking arms with friends they had known for years, while Bob surprisingly sprung up on Jen before she had a chance to get to Lindsey. Jen looked extremely reluctant, but Ray stepped in to join them, hoping that his presence would stop Bob from being punched in the face by his angry partner. Gerard turned sheepishly to Lindsey, feeling the awkwardness of a situation he thought he left behind in high school. “Uh...can we...be in a group?”  
“Sure,” she laughed, “Are you any good at breaking into people’s houses?”  
“I am,” came Frank’s voice from nowhere as he leaned over the couch, sticking his head in between theirs. He had a wide grin on his face that no one returned.  
“Of course you are,” Gerard sighed.  
“I guess we’ll bring Frank along too,” Lindsey said with an annoying tone in her voice. It was the same way she sounded when Frank first started hanging out with Ray, like he was just an annoying little brother trying to hang out the older kids.  
“And uh…” He mumbled, “I’m...sorry about...the whole...fire thing.”  
“Uh huh?” She crossed her arms, “Did Ray tell you to say that?”  
“What?” Frank held out his hands, “I was just-” he sighed. “Fine, nevermind then.”  
“Come on, boys,” Lindsey said, grabbing the last poultice left as everyone else filed out the front door. Gerard and Frank followed her out, all of them anticipating the awkwardness that would come from the three of them being alone together.

Frank hated awkward silences. He tried to fill in the time they walked to their target’s house by making jokes. When nobody laughed at his jokes, he got cranky and began to complain.  
“Are we there yeeet?”  
“Frank?” Lindsey would ask, ready to explode.  
“Yeah?” He would whine.  
“Are we still walking?”  
“Unfortunately.”  
“Then we’re not fucking there yet!”  
A couple minutes would pass as they continued to walk, trying to be as inconspicuous as a trio of adolescents could be in the quickly darkening evening. Then Frank would start complaining again and begin bickering with his sister.  
Lindsey led them into into a part of town they had never seen before. The houses were definitely more run down than the pristine two-storeys and mansions of the neighbourhoods around St. Helena. Lindsey began to slow down as they neared a small apartment complex, holding out a hand to stop them.  
“Are we there…” Frank began, coming to a halt, “...now?”  
“Yes,” Lindsey sighed, “We’re here. You see those stairs?” She pointed to the side of the building, where rickety stairs with concerning gaps between them wound up the side of the graffiti covered brick wall.  
“Yeah?” Gerard asked, the mere sight of them making him nervous.  
“We gotta use those to get up to the third floor - well, one of us has to anyway- that open window right there?. That’s where our guy is. The door’s locked, but Jen said he tends to leave his window open when he’s out.”  
“I can do it!” Frank said excitedly, running into the alley beside the building, followed quickly by Gerard and Lindsey, who whispered intensely at him to lower his damn voice.  
“Are you sure?” Lindsey asked, looking up at the broken and twisted stairs, the base of which was a couple feet off the ground. Either the guy who lived here used the main entrance, or he was very light on his feet. “I was gonna do it, but-”  
“Nah, it’s cool,” Frank replied lightly, “I’m way lighter than you anyway.” Frank inhaled sharply after he spoke, realizing that he may have been a bit rude. “Ah, I mean...I wasn’t trying to say that you’re like fat or anything.” Fuck, he thought, just stop speaking, shut up!  
Gerard stared at him while Lindsey face palmed, quickly handing her brother the poultice.  
“Yeah, okay,” she said dryly, “just hurry up and get the job done.”  
Frank grinned awkwardly and turned to scamper up the stairs. They creaked the second he reached up to grab them, squeaking and slowly inching downwards as he pulled himself up.  
“Frank, be careful!” Gerard called out.  
“Fuck,” Lindsey whispered, biting her nails, “I shouldn’t be letting him do this.”  
“Will you two calm down?” Frank scoffed, stuffing the poultice into his pocket and making his way up and through the twisted bars like a little kid in a jungle gym. Every move he made seemed to bring a section of the stairs lower - it seemed like the whole thing was collapsing in slow motion. Frank didn’t seem scared at all though, and had an intense look of concentration on his face which was only interrupted when he occasionally looked down to see Gerard’s reaction to his agility. He finally made his way to the top, grinning triumphantly as he put one leg, then the other through the window, pulling the rest of his body in.  
Gerard and Lindsey sighed with relief, then stood in silence as they waited for Frank to return.  
“So you’re sure the guy who lives here is away?” Gerard asked.  
“Yes,” Lindsey affirmed, “Come on, do you think I’d bring you two out with me if I wasn’t sure?”  
“Just asking.” Gerard looked up impatiently at the window, which was grimy and crooked. His eyes trailed down the side of the defaced brick wall, then around the alley way they were in.  
“Hey Linds?” He asked, “What did this guy do to end up on your list? I mean, he doesn’t seem like the pompous type you usually go after.”  
“Gerard,” Lindsey exhaled, evidently annoyed, “You trust me, don’t you?”  
“I mean, yeah, but-”  
“Okay. So then you trust me when I say that all the people on the list have done bad enough things to deserve this?”  
“Then why can’t you just tell me-”  
“Because Gerard, you have the habit of constantly challenging me, and I know you mean well, but if the House of Wolves and the Band of the Serpent’s Son are gonna do what I need them to do, I can’t have people questioning my motives.”  
“I’m...I’m sorry. It’s not like I’m trying to make people question you. I just….want to be sure I know what I’m walking into this time.”  
Lindsey looked up, apologetic when she saw the wistful expression on Gerard’s face. “Gerard, I’m not gonna lead you into something you’ll regret, okay?” She took his hand in hers. “I promise.”  
“Okay,” Gerard replied, a little smile returning to his face.  
“Hey!”   
Lindsey and Gerard whipped their heads up to see Frank sitting on the edge of the railing beside the door. His legs were crossed and he dangled his feet playfully with a smirk, “I’m done!” He called.  
“Would you keep your voice down?” Lindsey said harshly.  
“Pfft,” Frank scoffed, leaping down from the rail onto a step below, “You need to chill.” The step nearly gave way when Frank landed on it, and he quickly leapt to another to avoid falling.  
“Whoa-” He waved his arms around to keep balance, smiling cockily when he finally collected himself. “See? I’m fuckin fine.” Frank walked to the rail closest to Gerard and Lindsey, intending to simply drop down to the next one. He turned his back to them and crouched, lowering one leg down to touch the rail below. He began to let his weight transfer onto it, but it groaned and fell away, crunching down onto the rail below that one. Frank swung his legs, pulling himself back up with the bar he was grasping with both hands.  
“Uh,” he muttered, “so that didn’t work.”  
“Frank!” Lindsey hissed.  
Gerard chimed in. “Frankie, what are you doing?”  
“I’m fine guys,” he called down, trying not to let his voice shake.  
Lindsey put her hands to the sides of her head, trying to figure out what to do. He was still high up enough for a fall to severely injure or even kill him if he landed the wrong way. “Just...hold on, Frank.”  
“No shit,” Frank managed through quick, shallow breaths, “I was planning to just let go…” Despite his sarcasm, he was beginning to have a hard time holding onto the railing. His hands were sweating and his arms were beginning to get tired. Every few seconds, the rail would lower just a bit, threatening to collapse into the rest of the stairs. In one last effort, Frank attempted to pull himself up, which only resulted in a loud screech as the rail dropped even lower. The sudden movement jolted Frank’s entire body, and his hands slipped, forcing him to let go. He shut his eyes and braced himself, expected to be met with the excruciating pain of being bounced down between a series of metal bars or just landing splat on the pavement.  
Instead, he felt nothing but a soft breeze. Frank opened his eyes and saw Lindsey and Gerard below - it looked as if he were approaching them at a very slow speed. His sister had one hand to her mouth and the other on her stomach, as if she had been about to throw up. Gerard had his hands outstretched, and they were lowering in time to Frank’s descent. His eyes and the mark on his hand glowed silver. Gerard had saved him.  
As Frank slowly lowered on the ground, he expected to be met with frantic thankfulness that he hadn’t been hurt. Instead, his sister and boyfriend glowered down at him the second they recovered from their initial concern.  
“What the hell was that Frank?” Lindsey asked, remembering how to breathe properly, “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”  
Frank scowled up at them, getting to his feet when it became evident that neither of them would offer to help him up. “Jeez, thanks for the concern. I’m fine, thanks for asking.”  
“Yeah, I know you’re fine,” Gerard returned angrily, “because I just saved your life! You’re welcome, by the way.”  
“Uh…” Frank said, embarrassed, “Um...thanks. I mean, I was going to say thank you, but Lindsey started yelling at me-”  
“Well no shit!” Gerard voice began to rise as well, “You’ve been acting like an idiot lately. If you don’t end up hurting someone else, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”   
“Exactly,” Lindsey agreed. “The next vehicle you’re in will probably be a fucking ambulance.”  
“Oh, like you care,” Frank said under his breath.  
“Excuse me?” Lindsey asked.  
“Didn’t you see how worried she was?” Gerard challenged.  
“Uh, yeah,” Frank rolled his eyes, “Now that you’re around, she’s the poster child of sisterly love. It’s just a ruse.”  
“That’s not true!” Lindsey cut in.  
“Oh really?” Frank turned his head sharply to her. “Why don’t you tell Gerard about how you let good ol’ mom and dad treat me back home?”  
“Frank-”  
“How you never did anything to help me?”  
“I tried to-”  
“No you didn’t!” Frank yelled, shaking, “You like to act like you’re all strong and you can do anything, but you’re just as much a coward as I used to be! So you why don’t you tell him the truth?”  
Lindsey stood still, resisting the powerful urge to tackle her brother to the ground. She was shaking now too, tears welling up in her eyes. “I did.” She finally said.  
“What?” The response hit Frank like a truck and his face twisted with confusion.  
“I told him everything.”  
Frank turned to Gerard expectantly. “And...and what, Gerard, you still…?” He didn’t know what to end his question with. You still like her? You still respect her? “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Frank…” Gerard said quietly, “Can we talk about this later?”  
“No,” Frank insisted angrily, “Can we talk about this right fucking now? Because there seems to be something going on between my sister and fucking boyfriend that no one wants to tell me about. Did you even tell her we were dating? Did that ever come up in your deep heart to heart conversations that I’m not allowed to hear?”  
Gerard froze, realizing that he had never explicitly explained the details of his relationship with Frank to Lindsey. But then - “I didn’t think I needed to,” he responded, and realized that he meant it as he said it, “I thought it was obvious I cared about you in that way. You’re the only one who’s questioning it.”  
“Wait a minute,” Lindsey said, “Frank, did you think that Gerard and I were…” her voice trailed off and she stared at him in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable,” she spat, turning and heading back in the direction of her house.  
Gerard and Frank stood eye to eye in silence as the echoes of Lindsey’s angry footsteps on the pavement began to fade away.  
“So what?” Frank finally said, breaking the silence, “You want to yell me some more?”  
“No,” Gerard responded, “You wouldn’t listen anyway.” Then he turned and left, running to catch up with Lindsey and leaving Frank alone in the quiet night. Frank swore and then ran to join them. Maybe Lindsey would yell at him, but that was better than just standing there by himself in silence - Frank hated silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you guys liking it so far? You've all been super great and supportive and I love reading comments. What parts/characters do you like and what are your predictions?


	29. House of Wolves XI: Burn in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History repeats itself...kind of

House of Wolves XI: Burn in Hell

When the three of them got back to Lindsey’s house, a couple more groups had arrived there too. Some lingered outside the house, admiring the efforts Ray had made to fix the trees Frank burned down. Upon returning, he had managed to make some new ones sprout from the charred ground. They looked a bit more scraggly and crooked than the ones that had been there before, but Lindsey still appreciated the kind act.  
“Hey,” she called to Ray when she walked into her living room. “Thanks for the trees.”  
“No problem,” Ray said from the couch, looking up fleetingly from the book he had apparently brought with him - no one knew where it came from, but he always seemed to have one on hand.   
“How did it go?” Gerard asked, taking a seat next to his friend.  
“Okay,” Ray replied, already sinking back into his novel.  
“Where are Jen and Bob?” Lindsey asked.  
“Uhh...Jen’s in the bathroom and Bob’s...I dunno, probably sulking somewhere. How did your thing go?” Ray’s attempt to hold a conversation while reading about something apparently more interesting made Gerard chuckle.  
“Our’s went okay too,” Gerard said, not intending to bring up what had actually happened.  
“Well that’s one way to put it,” Lindsey mumbled.  
Gerard inhaled, “Come on, Lindsey, can’t we just let it rest?”  
“Oh?” Frank said under his breath, “You wanna let it rest? I thought you were on her side.”  
“Holy shit, Frank!” Lindsey exclaimed, “There are no sides, you’re just delusional!”  
“Yeah? Well you’re just-”  
Frank’s reply was cut short but a loud yell from upstairs, followed by an angry sounding grunt. They all got up and looked in the direction of the stairs to see Jen angrily tromping down. Her heavy black eyeliner ran down her face, smudged by her tears. Gerard had never seen someone look so scarily angry while crying before.  
“Jen?” Lindsey forgot her anger and rushed towards her friend, putting her hands on the crying girl’s shoulders, “What happened?”  
“Fucking asshole,” Jen spat between uneven breaths. She wiped at her face, frustrated about crying in front of so many people. Her attempt to hide her tears only smeared the running makeup on her face.  
“Jen?” Lindsey asked again, “Tell me what happened.”  
“He’s upstairs,” she finally managed.  
“Who’s upstairs?” Gerard asked.  
Lindsey didn’t wait for the response and was already bounding up to the second floor, ready to kick someone’s ass. Nearly half the people in the house followed her, eager to see what was going on. The crowd came to a halting stop, crowding into the narrow hallway beside the top of the staircase. A few feet down, standing outside the bathroom door, was Bob with a bloody nose.  
“You have five seconds.” Lindsey said, shaking. “You have five seconds to explain yourself before I rip your fucking throat out.”  
Bob stood completely still, frozen in both anger and fear.  
“It’s not-” he began.  
“It’s exactly what it looks like,” came Jen’s voice as she pushed her way to the front of the crowd to stand beside Lindsey. “He tried to get close to me - too close. So I punched him.”  
Lindsey turned to Bob, her eyes full of fury. “You know goddamn well I don’t allow guys to date the girls in the House of Wolves.”  
“I-”  
“And more important than that,” Lindsey continued, yelling over Bob’s attempt at a response, “The last man who tried to touch one of my friends against her will is fucking ashes. What makes you think you’re gonna be any different?”  
Bob opened his mouth to speak, and Lindsey rushed forward, ready to punch him again. Ray held out his hand to stop her, but she shook him off. Moments before she reached Bob, the ground started to shake and she stumbled away to the other side of the hallway.  
“Lindsey!” Ray called out after he calmed his earthquake. “Please! He’s my responsibility. Let me deal with this.”  
“But-” Lindsey began, clenching and unclenching her fists. She stopped and took a deep breath. “Fine. Just get him the fuck out of my house.”  
Ray nodded and walked calmly over to Bob, taking him by the arm and leading him in the direction of the stairs.  
“I’m so sorry about this,” Ray said to Lindsey and Jen as he passed.  
“It’s not your fault, Ray,” Lindsey said. Then she glared at Bob. “You can burn in hell, though.” The crowd cleared as Ray and Bob left shamefully, followed by the rest of the boys, tired of having to leave after one of their group members said or did something stupid. “And make sure he never comes back!” Lindsey called after them.

When they reached the warehouse, all the boys filed obediently inside, correctly assuming that Ray would want to talk to Bob in private. The two walked a couple blocks away in tense silence until Ray came to a stop, indicating that Bob should stop as well.  
“Ray,” Bob began, “Listen, I know you’re mad-”  
“Ah,” Ray put his hand up, stopping Bob from continuing, “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care if you wanna say you’re sorry and whether or not you actually mean it. What you did was fucking disgusting, and you’re out.”  
“I’m….what?”  
“You’re out.” Ray said again, with a solid glare he only gave when extremely pissed off. “You’re no longer part of the Band of the Serpent’s Son.”  
“Wha….but I’ve been part of this for-”  
“Yeah, well I’ve been here for longer. I fucking started this.”  
“You can’t do this!” Bob protested.  
Ray reached forward, placing his index and middle finger in the middle of Bob’s forehead, hissing something under his breath.  
“I just did,” he finished. “Look at your hand.”  
Bob looked down to see his mark beginning to change. The snake uncoiled from his thumb, fading from black, to pink, and then nothing. He looked up at Ray pleadingly, but his friend wouldn’t budge.  
“You already knew there would be consequences for doing something like this.” Ray said. “And I can’t believe that you of all people-” He cut himself off, realizing that there was no point in expressing his disappointment any further. “You need to leave. Now.”  
“No.” Bob replied firmly, “There’s nothing stopping me from coming back.”  
“Actually, there is. The second you turn around, you’ll forget the location of the warehouse.”  
Bob’s eyes widened, “Ray, please. I don’t know anyone else other than you guys. I don’t have any money-”  
Ray reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. “Take this. It’s not much, but you should be able to find some way to support yourself before you spend all of it.”  
“No,” Bob said again, shaking his head, “I’m not fucking leaving!”  
“Yes,” Ray replied angrily, “You fucking are.”  
The two of them stood staring at each other, waiting for the other to falter first.  
“If you want me to leave,” Bob finally said, “You’re gonna have to force me.” He held up two fists and set his feet apart in a fighting stance.  
Ray shook his head. “I’m not going to fight you, Bob. You don’t have powers anymore - you couldn’t hurt me if you tried. Now this is your last warning; turn around and walk away. And don’t think about turning back until you’re out of my sight.”  
There was another moment of silence until Bob finally faltered, snatching the money and spitting on the ground at Ray’s feet.  
“You can go fuck yourself.” Bob said, his parting words to the friend he had known for years.

The following week was awkward for everyone in the Band of the Serpent’s Son. No one asked what happened to Bob when Ray returned, nor did Ray explain himself. Everyone managed to piece it together well enough, and no one had anything else to say on the matter. Things continued to be awkward for Gerard and Frank, as the next days were another blur of choir practices.The two continued to drift further apart despite all the time they spent together, and many of Frank’s attempts at reconciliation always came off as more rude than he had intended, resulting in Gerard rebuffing him even more each time. When Sunday rolled back around, they barely spoke to each other more than a couple times a day, and there was nothing intimate about when they shared a sleeping bag together.  
When the time came during that Sunday’s church service for them to perform, Frank thought of taking Gerard’s hand for a moment - just to brush against him and maybe give a reassuring smile. No one would think anything of it - everyone thought they were brothers. But he hesitated too long and they were already getting into formation at the front of the church, Gerard readying his baton to begin.   
He looks so different in his priest clothes, Frank thought, but then - he’d looked different since they arrived on Isla Cura. He’d been completely different for a while now. Gerard had grown taller and thinned out so that his cheeks were more gaunt. His hair was neat and pulled behind his ears for church, but at home, it went unruly and wild.   
What happened to the cute, chubby nerd I met at youth group? Frank wondered as he took a breath, ready to sing. His brain answered - you happened. His parents thought he was gay and put him through therapy because they saw him with you. You made him take part in a ritual where he got possessed and killed his own family, Everything that’s changed him is your fault, and now he hates you because of it. The last part was too much, so instead he decided to continue on with the assertion that Lindsey was to blame for Gerard’s silent treatment. Gerard’s eyes scanned the faces of the choir boys as he raised his hands. His glare was intense and almost intimidating. Since when was Gerard intimidating?  
The song began. The simple tune Lindsey had taught Gerard sounded so much stronger than when she sang it alone, its power amplified by the many angelic voices singing together. Once again, the boys sang in a round. By the time Frank’s section joined in, he began to notice some congregation members acting strangely. One man - middle aged and balding with glasses - looked red in the face (at least redder than what was usual for a pasty man in church during the summer) and was beginning to hyperventilate. Another woman, maybe 30, was clenching and unclenching her fists in her lap, scrunching up the folds of her floral dress. The round started again with the first section, and they raised from mezzo piano to mezzo forte. A man in the congregation - the red faced one - stood up, obviously agitated, and began tugging nervously at his tight collar. Under his arms and around his neck slowly began began to darken as sweat seeped into his blue cotton button up. A few people whispered in annoyance and the lady beside him hissed at him to sit down.  
The round began again and the the first group raised to forte. As the fourth section joined in, the man yelled and lunged at the woman who had tugged at him. A dozen other members of the congregation - all people whose houses had been targeted earlier - began to scream and thrash uncontrollably. The church erupted into frantic screams of terror and pain as all the people who had been hexed lashed out at those around them. By then, the choir had stopped. All the other boys stared in horror as people they had known for years (or at least thought they knew) began shoving and hitting others in the pews.  
Gerard turned around, feigning surprise as the carnage unfolded. For a second, his heart skipped a beat and he wondered who among these seemingly polished and well-to-do people had secretly been slumming it out, only to come to church dressed like everyone else on Sundays. He couldn’t pick out anyone who looked different - but then again, if he and Frank could pass, so could anyone else. He cleared his head, deciding again that whoever had owned the house he, Frank and Lindsey had visited deserved to be a part of this if Lindsey decided it was appropriate.  
A couple more seconds passed, and Gerard felt oddly like a bystander watching passively, even though he was in the same room as the spreading chaos. A rough hand on his shoulder jolted him back to reality. Gerard turned sharply, expecting to be met with one of the ones who had gone crazy - instead it was a panicked Ezra.  
“Gerard! I have no idea what in God’s name is going on, but you need to get your boys out of here.”  
Gerard nodded and motioned for his boys to follow him, leading them out a back door. Some of the other priests began to catch on and led as many people as they could out through the back, until a group of scared churchgoers huddled behind St. Helena as the police finally arrived. By the end of the day, rumors were spreading around about what had caused the sudden unison of violence. No one innocent had been seriously injured other than a bloody nose here or there, but many of the violent ones had fought each other, and many had broken bones and concussions. It wasn’t long before the handful of people (who had quickly been subdued by the police, only to calm down almost immediately, completely oblivious to the actions they had just committed) were implicated in some nefarious scheme to undermine the church. Further research was done, and it was discovered that all the people involved had dark and incriminating pasts, which had been pardoned or ignored. Everyone in town came to the agreement that they must have been up to something horrible, even going so far as to brand them as anti-Christian, or even Satanic.  
When the full report of this came back to Lindsey, a smile cracked on her face. Everything was coming into place, and there were now only two more tasks left to complete. She looked down to the cloth on her coffee table as a third dot began to glow softly and a line connected the one across from it.  
Just two more tasks, she thought, and then we can change the world.  
She had already planned everything meticulously. They had been successful thus far, not including the insolent one who had decided to break the rules. Other than that, everything had gone perfectly. The completion of the third task filled her with more confidence than she had ever felt before. After all, with the progress they had been making, what could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...uh, yeah. Bob's out of the Band. Again. In case you guys haven't guessed by now, I'm not a very big fan of Mr. Bryar. It might seem a bit hypocritical for me to villainize him after complaining about people doing the same to Lindsey, but he has said and done some really disrespectful things in the past (both to mcr members and complete strangers) I won't get into it, but yeah. If you DO like him, I'm sorry for making him such an ass, but I promise this actually is a significant part of the plot and not just me taking my anger out on a virtual Bob.


	30. House of Wolves XII: We All Fall Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are happeninggg

House of Wolves XII: We All Fall Down

The next day, the two groups met at the House of Wolves, patting each other on the back and saying encouraging congratulations at the fulfillment of the third task. The girls noticed that Bob wasn’t in attendance, but none of them said anything about it. Like the boys, they were able to guess well enough what had happened. And good riddance, they thought.   
“Okay,” Lindsey said, after everyone was settled, “Just two more tasks to complete.” Her eyes lit up with excitement and ambition for the future. “I don’t know if you all understand just how close we are. How revolutionary this is going to be. When we’re finally finished, the powers of a deity will be available to anyone who touches this.” She gestured to the glowing fabric. “Of course there’ll have to be precautions, I mean we can’t let just anyone have access, that was the whole point in the first place. We’ll set up some of you as guards to keep constant track of its location-”  
“Lindsey,” Ray interrupted with a smile, remembering what it was like to ramble on and on about his plans for the Band of the Serpent’s Son, “This is all great, but maybe we should focus on what’s right in front of us.”  
“Oh-” Lindsey blinked, “Yeah. You’re right, sorry. So, the next line in the prophecy: ‘Revert the wine to it’s original state - on God’s walls it will smear.’”   
“And that means?” Brendon asked.  
“...Water?” Gerard asked, remembering the Bible story in which Jesus turned water into wine. It sounded like it made sense, but smearing water on church walls seemed kind of lackluster compared to what they had done so far.  
Lindsey shook her head and smiled deviously. “Think redder.”  
“Blood?” Ray ventured, squinting, “But what does blood have to do with-”  
“Oh!” Gerard piped in, happy to be the one with the mythos knowledge for once, “Blood as in communion wine, because that’s what it represents.”  
Ray’s eyebrows shot up and an excited murmur rippled through the room. Drenching the walls of the church would definitely get noticed. There was no way the residents of Isla Cura would pass this off as another unfortunate accident. This did mean that they would have to be a lot more careful with staying undercover, but the idea of defacing the St. Helena chapel so drastically was irresistible.  
“But wait,” Patrick asked, “How are we gonna do all of that?”  
“Correction,” Lindsey said, “I’m going to do it. Gerard and Frank are going to sneak me in and I’ll perform a chant on the wine they use for communion-”  
“I’ve been to the wine cellar already,” Gerard said, suddenly remembering the time he had to console Ezra. “I know where it is.”  
“Great,” Lindsey smiled, “So when I’m in I’ll-”  
“Hold on,” Brendon cut in, “So we just sit here and wait while you guys go out and actually do the task? Why does it keep happening this way?” A few murmurs of annoyance and agreement came from the group.  
“Guys,” Lindsey said firmly. “I know you want to be a part of this as much as possible, but I’ve thought of everything - every possible thing, and having a small group do certain tasks is best. You’re going to have to trust me, okay?”  
The group resigned grumpily, not wanting to get on their leader’s bad side.  
“Guys, please,” Lindsey pleaded, “We’re so close to our goal. So close I can feel it. I know you all want to play bigger roles in all of this, but I’m doing this for your safety. If one of us got caught it wouldn’t just ruin everything, but it would be on by conscious forever - I only want to directly involve other people when absolutely necessary.” Lindsey’s reasoning and uncharacteristic optimism eventually got to everyone, and soon they were back to their usual chatter.  
Lindsey, Gerard and Frank separated from the group and stood in a corner discussing their next plans. Things were still awkward between the three, but strangely so. Frank hadn’t made up with either one of them, but he also hadn’t had a disagreement with either once since then. The recent expulsion of Bob had given them all someone else to be angry at, and for a while it seemed as if they had drawn a partial truce while they all recovered from his actions - albeit without ever referencing what he did out loud.  
When Lindsey told them what her plan was to get in, Gerard bit his lip to keep from snickering, while Frank began to giggle uncontrollably.  
“What?” Lindsey rolled her eyes, “Shut the fuck up, okay? It’s risky enough for me to be going back there at all. No one at St. Helena has seen me for months, but I can’t be too careful.”  
“And this is your solution?” Frank asked after he caught his breath.  
“Yes,” his sister responded evenly, “unless you’d like me to teach you the entire ritual so that you can perform it yourself.”  
“Fine,” Frank sighed, “We’ll get you in.”  
“Just try not to rip Ezra’s head off when you see him.” Gerard warned.  
Lindsey scowled. “I make no promises.”

That night at St. Helena, a group of the most influential priests in the church met to discuss the severity of recent events. Leading the meeting was Ezra, while the lower ranking priests sat in the front middle pews as he paced back and forth in the dim candlelight.  
“It’s obvious that we’re under attack,” Ezra said, almost to himself. He had developed a nervous disposition ever since seeing Hiram’s ghost, but the others couldn’t blame this statement on his mental state; they all had to agree that something was going on.  
“But by whom?” One of the priests asked, “And what evidence would we have against them?”  
“I..I don’t know,” Ezra admitted. “But the frenzy that happened yesterday? And...and Hiram?”  
The group muttered uneasily. While they weren’t ruling out the possibility that the same group responsible for the violence had also orchestrated Hiram’s death, they still thought Ezra’s vision of Hiram’s death was due to grief and nothing more.  
“Well,” one of the priests offered, “let’s think logically here. What’s changed since the time of Hiram’s death and Ezra’s...er...incident?”  
“Your new youngest priest,” came a voice from the entrance of the church. A young man emerged from the shadows of one of the pillars by the main doors; he had apparently been standing there for a while.  
“Who...who are you?” Ezra said, jumping. “How long have you been listening to us?”  
“Long enough to know I can help,” the young man said, walking down the aisle with long strides. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with short blondish hair and the beginnings of a gruff beard. His steely blue eyes twinkled almost devilishly in the candlelight, and the eerie shadows cast on his face didn’t ease the tension either. “But as I was saying,” he continued, straightening his dirty clothes, “This has nothing to do with the people from yesterday. They were just pawns. Your new priest and his… ‘brother?’ They’re responsible for everything. And they had help too. A whole bunch of kids are involved in this.”  
“Gerard and Frank?” Ezra asked, incredulous, “But they’re so kind! Well...Gerard is anyway.”  
“They’re not what they seem. They’re part of a cult. One that worships Satan and pagan gods. You can tell by the heathen symbols they’ve marked their hands with.”  
The priests gasped and looked around nervously at each other, one going so far as crossing himself after hearing such blasphemous practices even mentioned in their holy place.  
“And how do you know all of this?” One of the priests asked, “How do we know you’re not lying, why should we trust you?”  
“I know,” the young man said, “because I used to be one of them.”  
The priests gasped again, not knowing what to make of this mysterious informant. What do we do? They thought, throw him out or find out what we can from him?  
“Don’t worry,” the man said, putting up his hands in surrender, “I’m no longer part of their practices. I left and uh...I’ve repented of my sins. The only thing I want now is to help you take them down.”  
“Well,” Ezra finally managed, “You’ve come for forgiveness, so we won’t turn you away. In fact, I believe you can be a big help to us. What did you say your name was?”  
“I didn’t,” the man returned coldly, “But you can call me Bob.”  
“Bob,” Ezra smiled uneasily, walking forward to shake his hand, “You may have strayed off the path, but you truly are a godsend.”  
“Thanks,” Bob said with a sly smile, “But before I help you, there are things I’m going to need help with first.”  
Ezra’s smile faltered and he suddenly wondered if this man was more interested in cash than salvation. “Like what?”  
“Like - how well do you know this area? I’m going to need your help locating a certain warehouse and a hideout in the woods.”

After returning from Lindsey’s house, Frank and Gerard sat side by side in front of one of the trashcan fires. The nights were beginning to get colder as fall approached, and the boys with fire links were quickly realizing they would eventually have to do more to keep everyone warm.  
When most of the others had either gone to bed or went messing about outside, Frank tried leaning his head on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard didn’t pull away and after a couple minutes, Frank felt an arm wrap around him.  
“It’s getting kinda chilly lately,” Frank finally said.  
“Mm,” Gerard replied absently, “Almost fall.”  
“It’s uh...It’s been a really fucking eventful summer.”  
“Mm.”  
Another few moments of silence.  
Frank turned to look up at Gerard, who was staring intently into the fire. The light played warmly across his pensive face and hazel eyes.  
“Gee?” Frank tried, “I...I’m sorry.”  
For a second, Gerard’s brain didn’t fully comprehend what he had heard. His eyebrows tightened and his pupils danced a bit as his vision focused on different parts of the fire. He finally turned his attention to Frank and lifted his brows ever so slightly.  
God, he’s beautiful, Frank thought, and he doesn’t even know.  
“Ah…” Gerard opened his mouth to speak but didn’t know what to say.  
“And you’re beautiful.” Frank immediately but his lip and winced, “Shit, okay that sounded random and out of the blue, but I just...I wanted to tell you because I know you don’t know how amazing you look, even when we live in this shitty ass warehouse, and I know that has nothing to do with anything but-” Oh God, Frank thought frantically, stop rambling, you fucking idiot.  
The corners of Gerard’s mouth turned up a bit and he laughed quietly. “Um...Thanks Frank.”  
A few second of silence and then:  
“You barely call me Frankie anymore.”  
Gerard took a breath, staring into the fire. “I haven’t heard ‘Gee’ very often either. I think today was the first time in days.”  
“Man,” Frank sighed, “What the fuck happened to us?”  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Gerard said, “Pagan cults, possession, ritual bloodletting.”  
Conversion therapy, asshole father, Frank added on mentally, oh and don’t forget that we’re both murderers now.  
“I kind of uh…” Frank began, “I kind of got you into this whole mess, didn’t I?”  
“Frank,” Gerard shook his head, “Don’t. Just don’t. Please.”  
Frank spent the next moments in a mental debate, fighting between impulse and shame. Impulse eventually won over, as it usually did with him, and he leaned forward to kiss Gerard on the lips. Gerard was surprised at first, but eventually relaxed, taking Frank’s hands and placing them against his own cheeks. Frank had other ideas and slowly began to make his way down to Gerard’s crotch.  
“No,” Gerard murmured, pulling away in frustration, “Goddamnit, Frank, no.”  
“But-” Frank protested, “No one’s around! Hell, no one would even care!”  
“I care, Frankie! I don’t want this, not yet anyway!”  
Frank went silent again, almost shaking with anger. Gerard could tell the urge to say something rude was bubbling up in him, and he finally spit it out.  
“Would you want this if you were with Lindsey?”  
Gerard stared at him in disbelief. He got up to say something, but his words caught in his throat. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, but he tried his best to blink them away, staring Frank straight in the eyes. Frank glared right back, and his silent gaze seemed to dare Gerard to speak. Instead, Gerard took a step and walked past Frank, storming out of the warehouse.  
“Hey!” Frank called, not caring how loud he was as some of the sleepers began to wake up. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me, you always do that!”  
Frank walked out the doors and found Gerard standing to the side with his back turned. He was breathing heavily and clenching his fists.  
“We can’t date anyone in the House of Wolves,” Gerard said, trying to control his breathing. “You know that.”  
“And that’s the only thing stopping you?”  
Gerard didn’t respond again and turned away, intending to walk around to the back. Frank grabbed his hand and pulled him around, forcing him to make eye contact.  
“Gerard, stop walking awa-” Frank stopped and immediately let go of Gerard’s hand. Tears were streaming down his boyfriend’s face. The heavy breaths weren’t from anger - or not anger alone anyway.  
“Gee-”  
“Do you wanna know the truth?” Gerard asked, no longer making an attempt to hide the way his voice whined when he cried, “I like Lindsey. A lot. Do I want to date her? I honestly can’t give an answer either way. Would I actually date her while dating you? No. Definitely not. Because I actually care about you. But none of that has anything to do with wanting to have sex.”  
“Then why do you-”  
“Because!” Gerard yelled, taking a step closer, “You know how I feel about my body, Frank! You know how uncomfortable stuff like that makes me, but you still-” Gerard paused, looking up at the sky and wiping angrily at his eyes. “Just...fuck. Forget it.”  
“What?” No, Gerard,” Frank inched closer, “I didn’t...I-” The words sounded idiotic as he said them. “I...I’m sorry.” Frank said again. “I...I would say I didn’t know, but...I did. And I don’t know why I-” he sighed angrily and smacked his forehead, “I don’t know, I’m just a fucking idiot, I didn’t see that this wasn’t about me.”  
The two stood side by side, backs against the wall. Gerard was still wiping his tears away, but Frank was too ashamed to try and comfort him.  
“I just…” Gerard began, “I just want this to be over. I hate fighting with you.”  
“I know.” Frank said sadly, “But I think...I don’t know, it’s like there’s some sick part of me that likes arguments and confrontation.”  
“Yeah,” Gerard finally managed to laugh, “I’ve noticed.”  
“Gerard?” Frank asked.  
“Yeah?”  
“You’re gonna hate me for this - and I swear I’m not trying to start another argument, but-”  
“What is it, Frankie?”  
“When...when you say you like Lindsey...do you mean, like-”  
“Frank,” Gerard sighed, “I...I don’t know. I’m not gonna tell you I don’t have feelings for her. But I can definitely tell you that nothing’s going on, okay?”  
“But...so...you do like her...in that way?”  
“It’s...complicated.”  
Frank exhaled, “You can say that again.”  
“But Frank, I swear, nothing has happened between us, and nothing’s going to.”  
“I know,” Frank said quietly.  
“Frank,” Gerard turned to his boyfriend and took his hand, “I need you to know that I care about you more than anything. You know that, right?”  
More than Lindsey? Frank wanted to ask. “I care about you too.” Tell him you love him, Frank thought urgently, just tell him, you fucking coward - but then - no, what if it’s too much commitment? What if he says it back, but doesn’t mean it? What if he doesn’t say anything at all?   
Frank decided on a hug that he hoped would communicate all the things he was too scared to say. Gerard hugged him back, resting his nose on the top of Frank’s head, while Frank buried his face in Gerard’s chest.  
“This is perfect.” Gerard whispered, “Just being close like this.”  
Frank nodded. “This is enough. This is all I need for now...or even if...even if you never want to have sex, I don’t fucking care, I just want to be close to you again.”  
“Why can’t things stay like this forever?” Gerard asked.  
“They can.” Frank said, “I just need to be less of an idiot.”  
But then again, Frank thought, that’s what you used to think back on Dolorosa. That if you stopped being mean to Gerard, everything would be perfect and you’d be happy together. And then Jormungand happened. But this is different, Frank thought, Lindsey’s plan is better. Everything’s going to be fine.  
So the two of them went to bed happily for the first time in weeks, snuggling up to each other, completely unaware that their next Jormungand was fast approaching.


	31. House of Wolves XIII: As The Blood Runs Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fourth task is completed, but at a steep cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit short. Sorry.   
> Also there's more pattern chanting.   
> Someone please point out what it is.

House of Wolves XIII: As The Blood Runs Down 

After church service the next Sunday, Gerard and Frank brought Lindsey into the chapel under the guise that she...or rather - he, was interested in joining the St. Helena Angels. Frank barely managed to keep his giggles down, and Lindsey was extremely close to kicking him between the legs.  
Her long, dark hair at been pulled back into a bun and stuffed into a black beanie. She wore a sports bra and the tightest tank top she owned under a button-up a size or two larger in an attempt to hide her chest, as well as men's jeans to hide the curve of her legs. With her blood red lipstick and black eyeliner gone, her face looked oddly blank. She slouched a bit and stuffed her hands in her pockets, and honestly - she passed for a teenage guy pretty well. The biggest challenge with her disguise was that Frank couldn’t stop fucking smirking.  
The three of them met Ezra, who usually lingered after service was done to plan upcoming events or talk to people who needed guidance. A strange expression came across his face when he saw them, but oddly enough, it didn’t seem as if he recognized Lindsey. The panicked look only rose to the surface when he looked at Gerard and Frank, while he almost ignored Lindsey altogether.  
“Father,” Gerard called out with a warm smile, “This is ah…” panic gripped him as he suddenly forgot the code name they had chosen. “This is...Larry,” he finally decided. Not anywhere close to the code name, but the first thing he thought of.  
Frank almost snorted, but tried to pass it off as a cough.  
“Larry,” Gerard continued nervously, “is thinking of joining our choir.”  
“Uh…” Lindsey mumbled, “yeah.” Frank stared up at the ceiling, biting his lip to keep from smiling.  
“I-is that so?” Ezra stammered.  
“So we’re just going to show him around,” Gerard explained.  
“Oh,” Ezra said, beginning to step away, “Well...that’s nice. I’m afraid, I have to go now. I have some business to attend to.” He quickly walked to the front doors, nearly tripping over himself as he hurried away.  
“Geez,” Frank said, “What’s up with him?”  
“I dunno,” Gerard replied. “Actually, it kinda seems like he’s been nervous the whole morning.”  
“Still jittery from Hiram’s ghost?” Lindsey wondered, returning to her normal voice.  
“Whatever,” Frank shrugged, “Let’s just get to the back room and do what we came here for.”  
Lindsey nodded, looking quickly around the chapel. By then, everyone seemed to have left. They would be fine if they hurried up. Gerard led them to the back room and tried the handle, but the door was locked.  
“Oh…” he whispered nervously, “I...didn’t think of that.”  
“Step aside,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, taking two bobby pins from under her hat. She crouched down and began working at the lock. She had it open in a few seconds and quickly walked in.  
“Whoa,” Gerard said, “That’s so cool.”  
Lindsey smirked. “Where do you think Frank learned all his tricks from?”  
Frank sighed but refrained from saying anything as he closed the door behind him. The walls of the room were lined with shelves stocked with wine to last for thousands of communions. On a cart were the flat, cylindrical holders that kept the small cups they used for the ceremony. Lindsey look the lids off of all of them and began throwing the little cups away, while Gerard and Frank began opening bottles of wine and pouring them into the now empty cylinders. When they had filled up the cylinders on all three shelves of the cart, they formed a circle and held hands, ready to begin the chant.  
“Sacrament ien notriem,” Lindsey said softly, followed by Gerard and Frank after every phrase. “Icras siver, icras niven.” After the fourth repetition of the chant, the liquid began to glow softly. When the light dulled down, they could see that the wine had taken on a deep, thickened tone. Memories of the Filling of the Cup ritual came back to Gerard, and he took deep, slow breaths to keep from getting anxious. The metallic scent that now filled the small chamber confirmed it - they had turned the wine into blood - literal transubstantiation.   
“Come on,” Lindsey said, smirking proudly. “Let’s get this done.”  
They wheeled the cart into the chapel, bringing it halfway down the pews.   
Lindsey turned to Gerard. “Ready to work your magic?”  
“Uh-huh.” Gerard inhaled deeply and held his hands out to the blood-filled containers, slowly twisting his fingers as he brought his hands up into the air. His eyes began to glow and little twists of wind began to spirit the dark liquid up in spirals.  
Frank couldn’t help but stare at how much concentration and precision his boyfriend put into his powers. His gaze was intent and his body language revealed a degree of power and confidence Gerard only had when he was oblivious to it. It was the same aura he gave off when drawing, singing, or any artform he was extremely talented at.   
Once the spirals of blood reached high enough, Gerard spread his hands and the large globs dashed in all different directions, landing at the top corners of all the walls. As the blood ran down, it seemed to multiply, making a perimeter of a deep red waterfall. It looked like a scene from a nightmare, and if Gerard hadn’t caused it, he would have been terrified. The three of them stood in awe at their work, but Lindsey was the first to remember the urgency they needed to have and snapped them back into reality.  
“Alright,” she said, putting a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, “that was amazing, but we can’t just sit here and gape. We need to-”  
“Demons!” A voice boomed from the front of the church as the large doors swung open. Standing at the entrance was a group of priests led by Ezra, all of whom looked terrified, enraged, or an odd mix of both. Standing beside them was Bob, whose expression looked like a horrific fusion between a grin and a scowl. Behind Bob were a handful of other young men. It took Gerard a second to recognize them, but Frank could tell right away - they were old members of the Band who had left after the Jormungand incident on Dolorosa. Bob had somehow gotten them to join his cause - whatever that was.  
“Shit.”  
“Fuck.”  
“Uh-oh.”  
Said Lindsey, Frank, and Gerard, respectively and in unison.  
“How...how dare you!” Ezra blubbered, dumbfounded. “This...this desecration of the church is unforgivable!”  
Lindsey sneered and made no attempt to hide her feminine voice. “Well we don’t need your forgiveness, bitch!”  
“Bob, what the fuck!” Frank hissed.  
“You brought this on yourselves,” Bob spat. “You have to admit, you were in over your heads the whole time. How could you think you could treat me and everyone else,” he gestured to the other guys who had left, “like complete shit and not get a nice ‘fuck you’ in return?”  
Some of the priests reacted to Bob’s cursing, but they generally agreed that he was still better than the cultists who had smeared blood all over their church walls.  
“Well now you’re gonna understand how it feels to have everything taken away from you. You treated us like dirt, and now you’ll become the dust under our feet. What was that saying Lindsey? ‘For dust thou art, and unto dust you shall return?’ Some pretentious bullshit that’s right up your alley? Guess what? Ashes to ashes, you fucking bitch.”  
Bob began to run towards them and the three immediately retreated to the back door.  
“Shit,” Lindsey hissed anxiously, “shit, shit, shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I planned everything-”  
“Calm down,” Gerard said as Frank frantically fumbled with the door to get it open, “this isn’t your faul- shit!” One of the old band members stood at the opened door, waiting for them to escape through that route. Gerard instinctively thrust out his hands, sending a gust of wind at him. He fell backwards and his his head on the pavement, knocked unconscious.  
Bob and his gang had caught up to them, and Frank had to dodge suddenly to avoid being whacked by what looked like a giant crucifix. In the millisecond he had to observe his attackers, he was extremely confused. Instead of actual weapons, they held crosses and little white bottles with gold lettering on them. He didn’t have much time to muse over what the hell that meant, and immediately dashed out of the door. Frank could feel Lindsey’s hand on his back, pushing him to go faster. Behind him, he could hear the angry shouts of the priests as some tried to follow, but as they neared the woods to Lindsey’s house, the voices were lost.   
Frank finally stopped running when his lungs began to burn and turned around to make sure everyone was okay. His heart immediately sank into his stomach. Lindsey had the same realization at the exact same moment, and her eyes flew wide open. There was no need for Frank to voice his shock, but as his heart began to speed up again, he couldn’t stop his frantic yell.  
“Where the fuck is Gerard!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I keep saying I might go on hiatus and then not, but the last chapter for this song is coming up and I need to plan the plot for the song afterwards which takes a while and...yeah so maybe hiatus while I'm planning. We'll see how it goes.


	32. House of Wolves XIV: Tell Me I’m A Bad Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard says the thing.

House of Wolves XIV: Tell Me I’m A Bad Man

 

Gerard hadn’t been strapped to a chair since his last appointment with Dr. Solomon. He didn’t know exactly what these priests and ex-witches were planning to do to him, but he guessed it couldn’t be much better - he was just glad Frank and Lindsey had managed to escape. They had him tied down to a fold out chair with his hands behind his back so he couldn't use his magic, and had dragged him back to the platform at the front of the church.  
One of the priests unscrewed the cap of his white bottle with a grave expression on his face. Gerard squinted and leaned forward to read the gold lettering and couldn’t stop himself from laughing.  
“Holy water? What do you think that’s going to do, melt me?”  
“Well why don’t we find out?” Bob asked mockingly, grabbing the bottle from the priest’s hands and dashing its contents onto Gerard’s face.  
In the millisecond Gerard had before the water splashed onto his face, his expression was somewhere between slight shock and amusement. He instinctively flinched away, but didn’t expect anything to happen. Then suddenly, the worst pain Gerard had ever felt began to sear through the flesh of his face. First under his eye where most of the water had hit, then spreading out like thorns, the excruciating sensation raced to his cheeks and along his neck as the water dripped down.  
Gerard clenched his tied fists, shut his eyes tight and hunched over, bellowing out the most horrible cry of pain he’d ever made. He didn’t notice until a while later, but the mark on his hand was burning too, as if it were trying to rip itself off of his palm. Of all the beatings from his father, the shocks from Dr. Solomon, even the acid of the blood that summoned Jormungand - nothing had ever hurt like this before. The blood came the closest to it, but barely scratched the surface of what it felt like. Gerard blinked multiple times to clear his vision, which had turned into a kaleidoscope of swirling colours. One of his eyes had gotten some droplets in it and he kept that one completely closed. He panted unevenly, glaring up at Bob, who laughed as his new monocular situation.  
“What...the hell…”Gerard finally managed to mumble, “was that?”  
“Water,” Bob said, putting a hand on the back of Gerard’s chair and leaning in close to his face. “Holy water. You know, the stuff used to repel demonic beings.”  
Gerard furrowed his brows - the best he could anyway. “But...I’m not a - wait, what are you-” his voice trailed off as Bob motioned for one of the priests to hand him a crucifix.  
“Oh really?” Bob grinned, “If you’re not a demon, then why can I do this?” He pressed the cross tightly against Gerard’s cheek - the wettest part of his face. The cross burned against his skin, sizzling and steaming as he screamed. The mark began to burn again, and though Gerard couldn’t see his hands, it felt as if the mark were moving - like the snake was slithering frantically around below his skin. He tried to turn his head away, but Bob just pressed the cross deeper into Gerard’s flesh. Gerard’s cries became so horrible that Ezra had to step forward and tell Bob to remember that they needed him alive and it seemed he was about to blackout.  
When Bob finally took the cross away from Gerard’s skin, he almost did black out. His vision in the dry eye kept fading to black, and Gerard was scared he was going to go blind in the other. His vision mostly cleared up, but his face and hand radiated with pain. When he tried to move his face, it felt tight and stretched - the way it had burned after drinking from Jormungand’s cup. Bob held up a mirror so that Gerard could see the full extent of what had been done. As Gerard looked at his reflection, tears came to his eyes and he began to shake so pitifully that the ex Band members and priests - already extremely unused to violence - had begun to pity him....almost.  
The crucifix had acted as a branding iron, worsening the effect of the holy water and pressing its image into Gerard’s face. In the centre of the red-pink splotches was now a cross, burned purple and black, with a fiery white border outlining its shape. It was the symbol of everything that made Gerard an outsider. The thing that had turned his family against him and had caused him so many years of insecurity and pain. And now it was burned forever into his face. Gerard turned his head down, trying in vain to hide the sobs that were working their way up to the surface.  
“You see, Gerard,” Bob explained, as if talking to a child. “You’ve been part so many pagan activities - I have as well, but luckily I got away from all that nonsense before it was too late.” He even went to far as to bow his head in feigned humility. “But you? You’ve been at the centre of everything. Hell, you drank human blood and summoned a demon!”  
The priests flinched and glared at Gerard in disgust. “I know!” Bob exclaimed, looking around at the gathering. “In fact, in his group he was named the son of that demon.”  
“Like some kind of anti-christ,” Ezra whispered in horror.  
“Yes,” Bob affirmed, turning his attention back to Gerard. “And the stronger your ties to demonic activity, the worse this is going to hurt.”  
The memory of Gerard’s mother frantically screaming at him suddenly came to his mind. When she told him that he’d become a demon, he had thought she was overreacting. But now…  
Was he a demon? The word had never occurred to him as an adjective to describe himself. Witch, yes. Cult member, maybe. But with the way he had been treated by people who followed a religion that despised demons...perhaps being a one made sense for him - and wasn’t something to be ashamed of.  
“So that’s why the holy water and crucifix were able to do this to you,” Bob said, summing it up. He got an intense look in his eyes and leaned in, whispering so that only Gerard could hear. “But you know me Gerard, I’ve never really been one for all of this fancy shit, even when I was in the Band. When I inflict pain, I like to do it myself - and with all you’ve done to me-”  
“I didn’t do anything to you,” Gerard croaked hoarsely. “I’m not the one who kicked you out.”  
“You messed everything up!” Bob exclaimed, grasping the back of the chair and shoving it to the floor.  
Gerard crashed to the ground, grunting as the side of his head hit the hard wood.  
“You waltzed right in and took everything!” Bob yelled, swinging his foot into Gerard’s stomach. “But you couldn’t even do that right! You had to go and kill everyone!”  
Gerard tried to look up, but could only manage to move his eyes in Bob’s direction. He realized for the first time that if Bob had ever lost family or friends on Dolorosa, he had never mentioned it. Then again, it also crossed Gerard’s mind that Bob just needed a scapegoat for his anger.  
“Bob,” Ezra stepped forward, “I know you have grievances with Gerard, but we’re trying to figure out how to save our town from these dark forces.”  
Bob turned to Ezra, and for a second looked as if he was about to drive his fist into the priest’s face. Instead, he took a breath and seemed to calm instantly. “Sorry. You’re right. We have a job to do, and the first step is finding out where Lindsey’s house is - they made me forget, but he knows. And fortunately, I can think of a whole bunch of ways to get him to talk.”  
Bob leaned down, ready to press the crucifix back into Gerard’s face.  
“W-wait,” Gerard protested feebly, “Bob, you don’t have to-”  
Gerard stopped. Bob had frozen, eyes wide and looking around frantically.  
“What was that?” He hissed. The boys and priests shifted uneasily, thinking that maybe Bob was even less stable than they had initially thought.  
But then they realized what Bob meant as a rumble came from outside, shaking the entire church with a sound like thunder echoing from beneath the earth.  
“Shit,” Bob whispered, looking the most terrified Gerard had ever seen him. “He’s here.”  
“Who’s here?” Ezra asked.  
Everyone in the chapel sharply turned their heads in the direction of the door as it swung open with superhuman force. Standing there was Lindsey, Frank, and an extremely furious looking Ray, eyes glowing green with raw power.  
“By God…” Ezra murmured, “His eyes…”  
“Ray!” Bob yelled, trying to hide his fear, “You’re not the only one who has followers now.”  
Ray began to walk forward, making the ground beneath his feet tremor with each step. Cracks began to etch into the floor and spread as his pace quickened. As he stepped up the dais to meet Bob, one of the boys finally came out of the fear that had paralyzed the others and took a swing at Ray with his crucifix. Ray sidestepped and held his hand out to the ground at the boy’s feet; it tilted upwards and sent him tumbling away. He stared at the crucifix in confusion as it was tossed, twirling into the air, but couldn’t give it much thought.  
Ray turned to Bob and the two stared each other down bitterly. Lindsey and Frank quickly ran over to untie Gerard and help him to his feet. They were unharmed by the others, who were too scared of Ray to accost them.  
“Well?” Bob huffed, “Are you just gonna stand there, or are you going to fight me?”  
Ray shook his head slowly. His eyes began to return to brown, but they lost none of their uncharacteristic ferocity. “I’ve already told you - I’m not going to fight you.”  
“I’ll fight him!” Came Frank’s voice.  
“Get out of here!” Ray roared. He turned to join his retreating friends when Bob suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist. Ray turned in time to see Bob reach his fist back, ready to drive it into his face. Ray held up a single palm to meet Bob’s fist; a painful crunch echoed throughout the chapel and Bob’s entire body twisted as he cried out in pain. Ray’s hand had seemed to solidify completely - as if it had turned to stone. Ray grasped Bob’s fragmented hand and used it to shove him backwards, trying to ignore the pitiful whimper that came from his mouth as he fell to the floor.   
“We’re leaving,” Ray said, joining his friends at the front of the church, “If anyone wants to end up like Bob, you can try and stop us.”  
Ray strode out of the church and swung the door heavily shut behind him. The second they were out of sight, his facade of confidence immediately crumbled and he quickly led his friends to the nearest back street. They ran for a couple of minutes until Gerard’s wheezing became unbearable. They decided upon the gap between an abandoned convenience store and run down fast-food joint.  
“Fuck,” Ray spat, “Gerard, are you okay?”  
“Does he look fucking okay?” Frank hissed. In the moments of their escape he hadn’t been able to fully take in what had been done to Gerard face. The burn was settling in, withered and stretched. The eye above that had gotten a douse of holy water was beginning to redden violently. Gerard kept his eyes trained to the ground in shame, but anger and indignation was beginning to overtake his self consciousness.  
“Why did we run away?” Gerard finally said, struggling to speak with half of his face in excruciating pain. “We should have fought them-”  
“Gerard-” Ray put a hand on his friend’s shoulder soothingly, frightened by his sudden violent wishes, “We didn’t have time. Things are bad - really bad. There are more of them than what you saw. They found the warehouse and a couple of guys…” Ray paused, taking a painful breath, “I didn’t know what was going on at the time. In our hurry to get out, I couldn’t tell what they were using. I didn’t know-”  
“What?” Gerard insisted.  
“...some of them got even worse than you.”  
Gerard’s eyes went wide. “Did they kill them?”  
Ray hesitated. “Not...at first.”  
“Shit,” Gerard leaned heavily against the brick wall behind him.  
“I wanted to stay to help them, but I had to lead everyone else to Lindsey’s and make sure we weren’t being followed...I...could still hear them screaming when I left.”  
“Stop that,” Lindsey cut in. “If anything it’s my fault.”  
“Both of you need to shut the fuck up,” Frank said. “Instead of figuring out who’s to blame, can we figure out why the hell holy water and crucifixes were able to do this to Gerard and the others?”  
Gerard was reminded of his grotesque mutilation and averted his gaze.  
“Yes,” Ray said, “I was wondering about that. One of the guys from Dolorosa tried to swing a cross at me.”  
“Well,” Gerard muttered, “It turns out my mother was right.”  
The other three looked at each other in confusion.  
“What?” Lindsey asked.  
Gerard took a breath and laughed bitterly. “Demons. We’re fucking demons, apparently. The more pagan rituals we take part in - the more ‘bad’ we are - the more holy shit can hurt us.”  
Lindsey, Frank, and Ray stood in stunned silence for a moment.  
“As you can see,” Gerard gestured to his face, “It did quite a number on me. But what can I say?” Gerard cracked an obviously painful smile, anger and frustration hiding behind his watery, dead eyes. “I’ve been one bad motherfucker.” 

 

END OF SONG III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the thing - I've been super busy and I JUST finished writing this chapter before uploading it, which has NEVER happened before. I usually have one to even three chapters done beforehand, but like I said, I've been busy (and also just lazy and distracted). So...yeah I'm not sure how long it's gonna take me to plan the next song, but I can guarantee it's going to happen. I may be able to do it super quick and keep to the normal schedule, or I may update two weeks from now. Just don't think I'm giving up on the fic, okay?  
> Oh, also. What do you guys think so far? Do you hate me yet? (Or if you already did, do you still hate me?)  
> Did anyone catch the frickin chanting pattern from the earlier chapters, because I doubt I'm gonna use it again.


	33. Hang ‘Em High I: Would I Die For You?

Hang ‘Em High I: Would I Die For You?

 

Ray stood idly in the corner of Lindsey’s living room, staring intently into space as what was left of his friends moved solemnly around him. Usually when he got like this, everyone assumed he was in deep thought, working out some brilliant master plan to get them all out of the shit, so he was left alone. Instead of his usual plotting however, he was actually doing the thing he hated the most - the most useless thing he tended to do, but that he could never help. He thought back on recent events with regret and bitterness, and blamed himself for everything that had happened.  
First: the nervousness that always came along with Gerard and Frank going off by themselves to complete a task. Of course Lindsey was there, and he trusted her, but whenever anything bad happened to the two who had come to be his closest friends - especially poor Gerard - he couldn’t help but be constantly on edge about possible outcomes. He had spent a good amount of time pacing up and down in the warehouse, psyching out the other guys. Something deep within him had told him that everything was going to fail. Of course, he usually felt like this somewhere deep in the back of his mind, but it rarely came true. But then - it did. Men...priests armed with small metallic objects and transparent fluids began to burst into the warehouse, attacking the boys and screaming at them. It had mostly been the less experienced boys who had been captured. The ones who didn’t practice their powers like Ray instructed, or the ones who were too fearful to fight back. But then again, some of the stronger ones were affected too, and it had been a lot more painful for them.  
You were too stupid to recognize what their weapons were, he thought to himself, maybe if you had understood the urgency, you would have gotten to Gerard faster…  
He shook his head, trying to clear away the negative thoughts, but they kept returning.  
Then: Running desperately to Lindsey’s house and bumping into her and Frank on the way to the warehouse, both of them shaking and furious. In turns and short breaths they revealed the truth: they had completed the fourth task, but Gerard had been taken in the process.  
Third: Ray didn’t really remember much of what happened between hearing the news and rescuing Gerard. He remembered being angry and frustrated. Both with himself and the world. The world kept messing up his plans, but maybe...he thought, maybe if he was a better leader, he’d encounter less failure. He remembered the earth shaking and something happening to Bob. And then being outside and suddenly all of his power replaced with fear and anxiety again. And then:  
More running. Reaching Lindsey’s house and telling the girls what had happened, telling everyone about what they did to Gerard, and what it meant for their plans going forward. Most of the boys had been instructed to stop using their powers - the strongest ones like Frank and Gerard would continue because they were the greatest assets, but everyone else and Lindsey’s girls began to arm themselves with guns - most of them stolen. They didn’t have enough to go around and most of them had never fired a gun before, so the rest kept knives, baseball bats, golf clubs and any other possible weapons on hand.  
And so it came to this - frantic adolescents buzzing around, passing about the weapons they had managed to gather before Lindsey set the cut off time for being outside of the house. They were now hunted - even more than usual. At night, three to four of them would be permitted to search for resources - no more than that, and only for weapons and maybe some food. They were all now living off of Lindsey’s supplies, and it occurred to one of them to ask where she had managed to get her electricity and food from all this time. She gave a vague response about blackmail and none of it being important after the fifth task was completed, then went back to polishing her knife.  
Ray stared out the window - the curtains were drawn shut, but he could catch a glimpse of the trees outside the house at a certain angle through the gaps. The trees were changing colour with the development of Fall. Some of them were golden yellow, others bright scarlet. Part of his brain told him to stop daydreaming and look straight ahead at what needed to be done. The other part couldn’t help but poeticize about the obvious symbolism. Fall - the ending of Summer growth and life, and the beginning of Winter - cold, darkness and death. Despite being in a similar position before, he couldn’t help but feel that that they were in the middle of their own Autumnal era as well.

 

That night, Gerard stood leaning against the wall facing Lindsey’s backyard. It wasn’t anything special, and was actually kind of eerie, as the yard was just a couple of square feet of leaf-covered grass boxed in by high walls of towering, dark, forest. Gerard had spent most of his time since getting to safety in the backyard. Others would come and ask if he wanted anything - some water, a cigarette, a hug. He always declined. Especially since none of them had been Frank.  
When Frank finally did come outside, Gerard had half a mind to yell at his boyfriend for ignoring him for so long - but then he remembered how painful it was to move his face too drastically and went back to looking down at the ground.  
“...Hey,” Frank said quietly as he closed the door behind him.  
“Hey.”  
“Uh...I...are you coming to bed soon?”  
“Huh?” Gerard turned to look at him, having to turn his whole torso because moving his eyes or blistered neck was still difficult.  
“It’s just...we’re all going to bed and…” Frank came to a halt mid-sentence, staring Gerard in the eyes. Water began to build up in his own and he burst into tears, rushing forward to give Gerard a gentle hug, careful not to touch any burned areas.  
“Fuck,” Frank whispered, “Everything’s all fucked, I’m so sorry.”  
Gerard knit his brows together “...What?”  
“I know I should have come to check on you but I just...Shit like this keeps happening to you and I keep remembering that it’s my fault and I just...I can’t face you.”  
“Frank,” Gerard put a hand on his boyfriend’s head. “I already told you to stop blaming yourself. I made the choice to join the Band of the Serpent’s Son.”  
“Yeah, after I was a huge dick about it.”  
“You rescued my from my family, Frank.”  
“I ruined your life.”  
“I-” Gerard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He disagreed, but was too tired of arguing to reply.  
“Gerard?” Came Frank’s voice.  
“Yeah?”  
“Why don’t we just...run away?”  
Gerard pulled away from the hug. “What...like...just us?”  
“Yeah!” Frank said, “I mean I would say Ray and Lindsey too, but you know they’d never agree to leave-”  
“And they’d be right!” Gerard exclaimed, “Frank, we can’t just give up on everything we’ve worked so hard for! Especially not when we’re this close!”  
“But aren’t you tired of being constantly on the run and living off stuff you stole from a goddamn convenience store?”  
“I thought that was your ideal life.” Gerard retorted dryly.  
“Yeah, well,” Frank stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked the leaves at his feet, “I was an idiot, okay? Back when I liked that kind of life-”  
“So like...yesterday?”  
“I’m serious!” He insisted, “I mean, okay, so very recently, I thought that kind of life was okay, and even fun, but...if the kind of life I’ve been living means you’re constantly getting hurt.”  
“I’m not constantly getting hurt,” Gerard insisted. He tried to emphasize his point by rolling his eyes, but they were in too much pain. He winced from the effort and decided not to bring up the fact that the vision in his red eye was getting blurrier and he had to close it to see clearly.  
“Yes, you are! I mean...think about it. Dr. Solomon was my fault.”  
“My dad already thought I was gay.”  
“And your dad beating you up was my fault.”  
“Frank, it’s not your fault I had a shit dad.”  
“And Jormungand was definitely my fault, I mean I made you join and you didn’t even want to drink from the damn cup-”  
“Frank, can we please stop?” Gerard was beginning to get annoyed. “I’ve already been through the whole hating yourself and taking the blame for another's suffering phase and honestly you’d be better off if you just skipped over it.”  
Frank stared at Gerard in shock. “What’s happened to you? You sound like a different person!”  
Gerard laughed bitterly. “Uh, what’s happened to me is that I’ve just been through the worst pain I’ve ever experienced, a bunch of my friends are dead (again) and on top of being like an actual demon,” he gestured to the mutilated half of his face, “I now fucking look like one too. But I mean...what’s your excuse, Frank? You don’t sound like yourself either. You’re the last person who’d suggest running away. That’s my thing, remember?”  
Frank’s expression darkened. “You can call me a coward if you want, Gerard.”  
“I’m not calling you a coward.” Gerard remembered clearly how much the word stung whenever Frank had directed it at him. “I understand your fear - of not wanting to be hurt or seeing others get hurt. But I’m more tired of running away and living a lie than I am afraid of anything else. Even pain or death.”  
“I’m not scared of my own death either. If I could sacrifice myself to make sure that you lived, I’d be perfectly fine.”  
Gerard’s anger softened and he took his boyfriend’s hand. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that because we’re both going to be fine anyway.”  
“I just want you to be safe, Gerard. And happy.”  
“I’m happy when I’m with you.” Gerard leaned down to give Frank a kiss.  
“But what happens if I die and you can’t be with me anymore?”  
“Frank-”  
“Yes?”  
Gerard sighed. “What were you saying earlier about going to bed?”  
Frank exhaled as well and crosses his arms. “I was gonna ask where you were going to sleep. The couches are probably taken by now, and Linds is only letting her girls sleep in her bed with her.”  
“So I guess it’s the floor, huh?”  
“Yep.”  
The two of them curled up on the floor beside Ray, who had seemed pretty understandably upset as well. They all rested their arms and legs on top of one another with Frank in the middle, trying to get as comfortable as they could on the cold, hard floor.

 

That night, Frank had a mercifully pleasant dream. For some reason, his brain had seemed to go all Wild West on him before falling asleep. He was some kind of bandit or outlaw visiting a small town and trying to start a revolt. The Sheriff was Gerard’s father and Gerard and expected to abide by the laws and keep good company - but the two fell in love and things became very complicated. When Frank finally woke up the next morning, his dream was already fading quickly from his memory. All he did remember was the ending where the two rode off into the sunset together, free to go wherever they pleased. Frank pondered on whether or not he was going to share this dream with anyone else - and more importantly - if he should reveal that throughout the dream, Gerard had been dressed in a risque saloon gown as well as heeled boots. Perhaps he’d leave that part out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikesss I keep updating later than I intend to. I'm really lazy, but I'm also really excited about bringing the story to and end, which is happening pretty soon.
> 
> Also...damn. This is becoming like...the length of a legit book. I mean I know there are super long ass fanfics out there, but I never thought I'd be able to right something this long (at the age I am now) and actually have it not suck?? Tbh, I'm probably going to hate it by next year, but I'll enjoy it for now.


	34. Hang ‘Em High II: The Grace of God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're gonna hate me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Expect these last few chapters to be updated a bit randomly.

Hang ‘Em High II: The Grace of God

“Are you fucking crazy?” Frank exclaimed after a tense moment of silence. The members of the House of Wolves and Band of the Serpent’s Son sat cross legged in the dark of Lindsey’s living room. Now that they were wanted, their meetings were kept in even less candlelight than usual.  
Lindsey crossed her arms. She had already known that someone would object to her plan - she was a bit surprised that it was Frank, however.  
“Oh,” he continued, “and let me guess: you want Gerard to do it right?”  
“Frank,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, “The plan was always to have Gerard do it. But this was before fucking Bob ratted on us. Now we need a more covert strategy.”  
“How the fuck is this covert!?”  
Lindsey exhaled - she knew it was dangerous, foolish even - but they had no other choice. They were running out of time and needed to get things done as soon as possible. To tell the truth, her idea would have sounded insane to her only a few days ago. St. Helena was about to have a funeral for a sick priest whose death had been expected for quite some time. Her plan: sneak someone into the coffin so that when the St. Helena angels begin their mourning song, they would be able to chant and enact the spell to make the angels “quake in fear.” The fifth and final task would finally be completed.  
“I know it’s dangerous,” Lindsey said, addressing the group, “But we’ve come so far already. And we’ve lost too many people to-”  
“If I remember correctly, it was the Band of the Serpent’s Son that got fucking ambushed.” Frank’s grumble was quiet, but loud enough for Lindsey to hear.  
She snapped her head towards him, eyes bright with anger. “I’m sorry, do I need to remind you of my dead girlfriend?”  
“Fuck,” Frank said quietly, looking at the floor, “I didn’t mean...I just-”  
“I know, Frank,” Lindsey said, putting a hand on her brother’s shoulder - the most caring physical contact they had shared in some time, “You’re worried about Gerard. Trust me, I understand. But he has the most experience now with learning chants in a short amount of time.”  
“What about you? You already know the chant, right?” Frank asked, “Or Ray?”  
Lindsey looked over at Ray and opened her mouth to respond, but Gerard cut her off. “No. I’ll do it.”  
Everyone looked over at Gerard, who was leaning against the couch with his arms crossed. The dim firelight cast eerie shadows over his already disconcerting face.  
“Gerard,” Frank began cautiously, “You don’t have to-”  
“Yes. I do.”  
“No, you really don’t.”  
“Well I want to, okay? After what the bastards at St. Helena put me through? I want to be the one to finish this.”  
Frank looked at Gerard with an expression of what was almost like fear in his eyes. It was very rarely that Gerard ever got this angry and power hungry. At times, it could be extremely sexy - but when it involved a mission that sounded like reckless suicide...it made Frank extremely nervous.  
“You can’t stop me, Frank.” Gerard decided. He turned and addressed the rest of the group. “I know we’ve been through a lot of shit guys - but we’re going to make this right. We’re going to get everything we’ve worked for - and then we can make this shit hole of a world a better place.”  
Gerard’s speech wasn’t much of a speech. It was nothing more than a few words spoken in a rasping voice from a throat that was in constant pain - but his injuries only seemed to give more power to his words. If Gerard - who had everything taken away from him and had so recently gone through such terrible pain - could put on a brave face and volunteer to do the most dangerous task...it gave them a lot of hope. A few people even began to clap.

After the meeting, Frank found Lindsey and Gerard discussing the details for their final mission. Frank was used to approaching the two of them smiling and laughing, then feeling left out of the fun. Instead, he was met with his sister and boyfriend looking sleep deprived and speaking in serious tones.  
Part of Frank wanted to try for a smile, but he was too pissed to be his usual self.  
“Are you two seriously going through with this?”  
Gerard and Lindsey stopped speaking to glare at Frank - and there was that look again. Like he was the annoying little sibling who didn’t understand anything.   
“Frank,” Lindsey began, “We’ve already been through this.”  
“But why Gerard?”  
“Gerard said he wanted to do it!”  
“Gerard doesn’t know what he’s talking about!”  
Gerard scowled. “Gerard can speak for himself.”  
Frank sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is there really nothing else we can do?”  
Lindsey shook her head. “Nothing I can think of in a short amount of time. And now that we know they’re using anti-demonic rituals...I don’t know how much longer the cloaking spell on my house is going to hold up. We need to act as quickly as possible.”  
Frank ran a hand through his hair and leaned heavily on the wall. “Fuck. Come on, you have to think of something better. You know if they catch him, they’ll kill him, right?”  
Gerard looked up. “And if we don’t do anything, they’ll kill all of us. Anyway, I’ve already learned the chant. You’re not going to stop me”  
“What?” Frank exclaimed, “How the hell did you - how long have you even been out here?”  
“I’m a fast learner,” Gerard replied. With that, he walked back into the house, leaving Frank and Lindsey alone.  
There was a moment of silence, and then Frank said, “You know you’re gonna get him killed right?”  
“If you really want to help him keep safe, be the getaway driver when he’s done.”  
“The getaw - where the fuck am I supposed to get a car?”  
Lindsey raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You seemed to have no trouble stealing shit before.”  
“Linds, it’s gonna be really hard now that we’re the island’s most fucking wanted.”  
“Well, Lindsey replied coldly, “You seemed to be the most worried about it, so make it happen.”  
“You’re a real bitch, you know that?”  
“And you still seem to think that’s a bad thing.” Lindsey turned and began to walk towards her back door. “So we can count on you for the car, right?”  
“I...I don’t know. I’m still not sure how I feel about-”  
Lindsey interrupted him as she stopped into the doorway. “Frank. The funeral is tomorrow.”  
Frank’s eyes went wide, “The...Jesus fuck, Lindsey!”  
“Yeah, yeah,” Lindsey said, too tired to correct Frank’s use of the forbidden name, “I’m a bitch, I know. I also know that if you’re so concerned about Gerard, you’ll get the fucking car.”  
She stepped inside and the door closed around her.   
“Shit,” Frank hissed, turning to go back inside, “She’s not right in the goddamn brain.”

Gerard found that being in a coffin was surprisingly comfortable. It was padded and eventually became warm with his trapped body heat, and the dark quiet was very calming at first. He wasn’t exactly sure if this was something to be concerned about, but his mind was too anxious to focus too heavily on that. Sneaking into the back room where they held the coffin had been easier than expected as well - then again, it had been Lindsey who did all the work. Gerard simply followed her around and did as she instructed. She even took care of the body herself, which Gerard was immensely grateful for. It was the waiting that was killing him. Although Lindsey had assured him it would be a closed casket ceremony and he would only be revealed when he chose, he was still on end. As much as he had been acting with a strange new sense of confidence - he was still terrified - just slightly less likely to allow that terror to affect his actions.  
The warmth of the coffin began to turn to an uncomfortable humidity as Gerard began to sweat. He began to worry if something had gone wrong - the ceremony was about to start and no one had come to get the coffin yet. The darkness that he had initially found soothing began to feel eerie and uncomfortable. The silence was deafening.  
Then suddenly, he heard the sound of a door swinging open and purposeful footsteps. Next came the sound of light grunts as he was lifted into the air, and presumably carried out into the chapel. Gerard could hear the organ music, the occasional sniffle, and somber whispers. The noises grew louder as they reached the front of the church, where the coffin - he guessed - was placed on an altar.  
As the ceremony started, (with Ezra giving words of remembrance for yet another dead friend) Gerard’s nervousness began to be replaced with a different feeling - a sort of buzzing that was like anxiety, but more powerful and driving. He was...excited. Eager to show everyone in that goddamn church just what he was capable of. If they were going to persecute and hunt him as a demon, he might as well show off how powerful he was. The rush of performing chants came back to him, and he remembered the confidence he gained from having a mystical persuasion over reality. It was amazing.  
It was this eagerness that allowed him to sit through what was almost an hour of speaking before it was his time to shine. His heart beat heavily in his chest, but from anticipation, not fear. After a few people had spoken - all of them in broken, hushes tones, voices twisted and sore from crying - Ezra announced that the St. Helena Angels would be singing a piece to commemorate the death of the church’s long time attendee. Despite himself, Gerard was a bit miffed that the role of training the Angels had been so quickly filled in his absence. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of superiority when the boys started singing - they didn’t sound half as good as when he had taught them. Their tone was emotionless, their diction was sloppy, the dynamics monotonous and boring. Quickly after his biting mental critique of the choir, he quickly remembered that he had a job to do. They had just started, but he didn’t know how long the song was going to last, and needed to begin the chant right away. He spoke in rapid whispers, anticipating the moment when the spell would take hold.  
“Gen eradum en detrius, incarciem ex seraf.  
Inoquien mich nopriem, os tira sen, os res ren yan.”  
He said the chant four times, as Lindsey had instructed. As he neared the fourth chant, he began to notice a change in the singing of the boys. One of them made a glottal sound, as if something had caught in his throat. Another began to stutter uncontrollably. There was no audible reaction from the attendees, but Gerard could imagine the confused the faces of the audience. He smiled to himself, knowing that what would come next would outshine everything they had seen that summer.  
Gerard slowly began to push open the coffin, reciting the chant for a fifth and final time, allowing his voice to grow louder and louder as he emerged. People in the church began to scream and even faint - at first because they thought they had seen a dead man rise from the dead, but when they saw Gerard - what appeared to be a demon with a greasy mop of black hair covering most of his face, with what was revealed being burnt and mutilated, the fire blazing in his uncovered eye - the one that was swollen and red - their terror reached a height they had never experienced.  
Gerard finished the fifth chant, yelling the last words at the top of his lungs. The number five - the representation of the five elements and the fifth task he was to finally complete. He raised his hands in the air, taking in the looks of absolute horror on everyone’s faces. Despite his burned face, unwashed body, and the sweat seeping through his tattered button up shirt, he had never felt so good about himself in a very long time. He couldn’t wait until the task was completed, so that he could feel this powerful every second of the day.  
Gerard glanced behind him at the choirboys, many of whom had fainted. Others had fallen to the floor in fear, shaking uncontrollably. Gerard let out an almost wicked laugh, allowing his voice to resonate throughout the chapel. No one was stopping him. Everyone sat completely still, too afraid of what they could not understand to try and think of a solution.  
Gerard lifted his hands again, feeling the spell begin to take hold. “Mass convulsions,” he bellowed, thrusting his hands out at angles behind him, “strike the choir!” He smirked horribly and added, “By the grace of God!” He pointed towards the ceiling as he said the last word. At that exact moment, every member of the St. Helena Angels fell to the ground, seizing and foaming at the mouth. The congregation erupted into screams, and just as quickly as the chant had begun - it was over. The final task was complete.  
Gerard felt a sense of elation he had never imagined. He was dehydrated, smelly, and sleep deprived, but he felt amazing. He looked out onto the chaos he had caused, realizing that he couldn’t stay to revel in the mass hysteria. Before anyone collected themselves enough to take action, he hopped out of the coffin, ran down the aisle as fast as he could, and left the chapel.

“Fuck,” Frank hissed, glaring intently into his rearview mirror as he tapped his hands on the steering wheel of the dark sedan he had stolen. He had parked about half a block down from the church, and he felt that he was too far away from Gerard to be able to protect him. The wait had seemed to take an eternity, but just as Frank was beginning to assume the worst, he saw a mess of flesh and fabric speeding its way towards the car. He started the engine and unlocked the doors, eyes wide as Gerard rushed into his seat.  
“Go!” Gerard rushed, taking Frank’s free hand with a huge smile on his face, “Fuckin’ gun it, Frank!”  
Frank pressed his foot on the gas pedal, looking up to see figures beginning to chase them as they sped off. His stomach did so many flips, he thought he was going to throw up.  
“Are you okay?” Frank asked frantically, trying to keep his eyes on the road. He wanted to hug his boyfriend and check to see that no one had hurt him, but he was too preoccupied with making sure they weren’t caught by a hateful mob.  
Gerard nodded excitedly and began to giggle. “I did it, Frank! You should have seen their faces, they were fucking terrified!”  
“Shit,” Frank exhaled, allowing himself to smile a little, “You had me so worried.”  
“It was amazing, Frankie, I wish you could have seen it. The Angels dropped like fucking flies.”  
Frank blinked and turned his eyes momentarily to Gerard. The glee with which he talked about harming others was beginning to get startling.  
“Aw, calm down,” Gerard waved his hand,” They’re not dead, they just fainted.”  
Frank nodded and looked back to the road. He didn’t like how nonchalant Gerard was getting about stuff like this - it was Frank’s job to be inconsiderate, and Gerard’s to keep him in check. He didn’t like it the other way around. He was too happy that Gerard was alright though, and kept his concern to himself.  
When they reached Lindsey’s house, Frank fumbled anxiously with the door handle to get out. By the time he stepped outside, Gerard was already waiting for him on the other side of the car. He grabbed Frank’s face and gave him a huge kiss, wrapping his hands around his boyfriend’s small body and pulling him in close. Before Frank even had a chance to kiss him back, Gerard pulled away and grabbed Frank by the hand again, leading him excitedly into the house.  
They burst into Lindsey’s living room and were immediately met by cheers and hugs. Sitting on the coffee table was the cloth - all five dots glowing warmly by the fireplace. All five lines finally connected and the circle around them lit up as well - they had created a pentacle, the centre of which invited anyone to gain divine power by simply placing their hand inside.  
Lindsey stood beside it, hands over her mouth and eyes wide, filling up with tears. She shook her head slightly, as if she didn’t believe it. She was so used to the universe taking everything away from her - it seemed almost unreal that she had finally gotten what she had worked for.  
She ran forward and gathered Frank and Gerard into a hug, beginning to cry immediately.  
“I love you fucking idiots,” she said.  
They hugged her back without hesitation. Whatever issues the three of them had been through in the past few weeks were swept aside - at least long enough to enjoy their victory. It wasn’t long before Ray joined the hug as well, patting them all on the back for all their hard work.  
“Come on,” Lindsey said, trying to wipe away the dark tears of eyeliner that ran down her face. She brought Gerard to the table and gestured to the cloth. “I want you to be the first to get the Wolf’s powers, Gerard. You’ve done so much for us, and I honestly don’t believe we could have done this without you.”  
Gerard smiled, feeling tears rush into his eyes. “I-” began, “I don’t know what to say, I-”  
Gerard stopped dead in the middle of his sentence as a loud banging came to Lindsey’s front door. Everyone froze in silence as they all looked towards the source of the noise.  
Lindsey titled her head so that she could see through the sliver between her curtains. Her eyes widened as she realized what was about to happen. “Shit,” she whispered. It was the only thing she could get out before all hell broke loose.  
A second bang came to the door, this time sending it flying off its hinges. One of the girls was hit directly by it and screamed as she was thrown to the floor. Standing in the doorway was Bob, one arm in a cast, the other raised beside his head. He flung his arm to his side and yelled, “NOW!.”  
Dozens of men came swarming in around him into the house, all of whom were armed with crucifixes, knives, and holy water. The House of Wolves and the Band of the Serpent’s Son readied themselves, pulling out knives, bats, and guns with little skill to use effectively.  
Lindsey was rushed by a fairly young man holding a crucifix. She unsheathed the knife she kept at her thigh and sliced the side of his hand before he could hit her. He yelled in anger and pain and dropped the cross.  
“Witch,” he rumbled.  
“Corpse,” she spat, driving the knife into his stomach and then his throat. She pushed him to the floor as he fell on her carpet, blood bubbling up from his sliced esophagus.  
Standing by the dead man was Gerard, frozen in fear. He looked at Lindsey in complete horror. She was about to say something to him, but her attention was immediately caught by Bob, who was making his way towards the cloth on the table. His eyes were wide and wild, hungry with the power he could gain so easily.  
Lindsey rushed him, screaming, but he raised a foot and planted it heavily on her chest, kicking her to the ground. Lindsey sat up, dizzy with pain. She watched Bob in horror, too furious to guard herself in case another attack came. She staggered to her feet, trying to catch the breath that had been forced out of her lungs.  
Bob took a step forward and placed his hand in the centre of the pentacle. Lindsey’s eyes widened with rage as her enemy attempted to steal everything she had been through hell for.  
And then - nothing happened. Nothing except a jolt of pain that seemed to hurt Bob almost in the same way that holy objects hurt the cult members. The memory of the oath he had taken to be loyal to the Wolf came back to him, and he yelled in rage. He turned to Lindsey, whose look of fear had turned into a smug grin.  
Bob scowled, and for a moment, time seemed to slow down. His scowl turned into a smirk - a grimace, and suddenly the smile was wiped clean off Lindsey’s face. Bob turned and slammed his foot into the side of the coffee table, sending it into the fireplace. The cloth slid off the wooden surface, and was immediately engulfed in flames.


	35. Hang ‘Em High III: Fades to Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The earth crumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm so sorry for my wacked up schedule. I've been super stressed lately and trying to write as much as possible. Good news is the fanfic's almost done anyway.  
> Oh, and also I'm sorry for all the cheesy references I sneaked in  
> ....and also for what happens next.

Hang ‘Em High III: Fades to Black

 

The chaotic events that took place mere hours ago wouldn’t stop replaying in Gerard’s mind: the wild elation he had felt at finally completing the tasks. Then the shock and fear when Bob appeared from nowhere with his gang of church-goers and ex-cult members. The pain and horror of seeing even more of his friends killed in front of his eyes. When his brain replayed the events, they were gorier and hazier each time. He remembered being frozen in fear, all of his pride and bravery gone in the face of such an unexpected event. He remembered being pulled by someone, maybe Ray, outside of Lindsey’s house. Whoever had taken him out had guided Lindsey out too - she had been screaming and swearing more violently than Gerard had ever heard. He remembered running until his lungs burned, not taking in any of his surroundings, just being pushed from behind as the tortured cries and angry shouts faded away behind him. Everything they had worked so hard for - just thrown away on a whim, now irretrievable. At first, Gerard felt nothing but emptiness and grief, but over time, his numbness sharpened into an intense anger stronger than anything he had felt before. He couldn’t tell if the anger was directed at himself for being too scared to fight back, or if it was at Bob or the entire world. Either way - Gerard wanted vengeance - and at this point, he was willing to do anything to get it.

 

“What do you think we should do about him?” Ray whispered to Frank. The two of them and everyone who had managed to escape the ambush - a handful of people - stood in the shadows of the abandoned store Ray had them hide behind after rescuing Gerard less than a week before. Thankfully the windows were boarded up and it had been out of use for so long that no one looked twice at it. Still, everyone stood or crouched behind the rows of mostly empty shelves, just to be safe.  
“I dunno,” Frank muttured. “He’s-” he looked over at Gerard, who had been crouching in the farthest corner of the store in the two hours since they had arrived there. He stared into space with a glassy expression, barely acknowledging anyone who spoke to him - even Frank.  
“He’s broken, Ray,” Frank finally said, trying to keep his voice low so it wouldn’t crack, “He’s been through so much bullshit, and he finally got something good for once and...fucking-” his voice trailed off and he looked away, trying to calm his anger. There was no need for him to finish, though. It was clear what he meant - Bob had taken everything away from them.  
On the other side of the store, Lindsey was making no attempt to hide her fury. Ray had instructed her not to topple anything over because it might be loud enough to hear from outside, (having only made this revelation after she had already kicked a shelf to the ground) so she had taken to kicking a wall and arguing with herself as she took breaks to pace back and forth.  
The others who had made it were in pretty similar shape to either Lindsey or Gerard. Some of them swore angrily while others sobbed for their lost friends, or stared into nothingness in complete despair. Another half-hour passed and the autumn chill was beginning to set in. Finally, Lindsey couldn’t take it anymore.  
“Okay!” She exploded, walking into the middle of the store, breaking the silence that had fallen over them, “So what are we going to do now? They took everything away and what...are we just gonna sit here and do nothing?”  
“We need to leave,” Ray responded, joining her in the centre of the room. “As difficult as that may be, considering all they’ve done to us, we don’t have any other-”  
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lindsey raged, “You’re telling me we should just take this lying down like a bunch of bitches instead of fighting back?”  
“Will you listen to yourself?” Frank interrupted, “Look around you!” He waved his arms to indicate their grieving friends, who watched the argument in silence, “This is what happens when we mess with shit we clearly shouldn’t be! We have no way of fighting back other than causing as much trouble as we can before they kill us too. The only thing we can do is try to get away and make it as hard as possible to catch us.”  
Ray nodded, “Frank’s right. We don’t have enough time to find some other deity to latch on to for protection, and now that our connection to the Wolf is gone, there’s no point in staying here. We don’t have enough strength to do anything except protect ourselves as we leave.”  
Lindsey fumed but said nothing. She knew they were right, but hated to admit the truth - there really was nothing left.  
“So what’s your plan then?” She finally asked, keeping her jaw clenched to keep the tears from rolling down her face. “How do we escape? Where do we go?”  
“Uhm,” Ray, began, “make a break for the docs? See if we can steal a boat and get some guys with water links to get it going - it’ll save time on figuring out how the engine works and-”  
“That’s it?” Lindsey demanded, “Just make a mad dash to the beach and hope we don’t get killed on the way there?”  
“Yes,” Ray nodded solemnly, “At this point, it’s our only option.”  
“Goddamnit,” Lindsey yelled, kicking over an old can of beans, “GODAMNIT! It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”  
Ray walked towards her and tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off.  
“Why can’t I do anything fucking right?”  
Ray looked away with a sadness in his eyes. He understood exactly how she felt.  
“You did the best you could.”  
“Yeah,” she scoffed, “and obviously that wasn’t fucking good enough.”  
“Linds,” Brendon chimed in, “We can’t spend time trying to find someone to pin the blame on now. We just need to focus on getting away as soon as possible.”  
“What about the others?” Came Gerard’s hushed voice. Everyone turned to look at him in surprise. “The ones who got away from Lindsey’s, but didn’t catch up with us here?”  
An uneasy silence fell over everyone in the room as they each had an internal battle over their own lives and the lives of their friends.  
“Okay,” Ray finally decided, “I’ll go out and look for survivors. If I’m not back before the sun sets-”  
“No,” Frank interrupted, “Don’t even finish that fucking sentence.”  
“Frank,” Ray pleaded, “We can’t just leave everyone to fend for themselves.”  
“Well we can’t make you go out by yourself either!”  
“You’re not making me,” Ray countered. “I’m volunteering. Besides, night is the best time to leave anyway. It’ll be dark enough for a larger group to sneak around, and you’ll have some time to gather supplies.”  
“But-”   
“No buts,” Ray said, looking around at the group, which had grown queasy after his decision. “No one stops me, and no one comes after me. Got it?”  
Unsatisfied grumbles went through the group, but after a couple more minutes of unfruitful back-and-forth, Ray was permitted to go, as long as he promised to be as careful as possible. He gave each of his friends a quick hug before leaving, trying not to show how terrified he was to be putting his life on the line. He felt it was his obligation, however, since in the end, it felt as if all of this was his fault. If he hadn’t started the Band of the Serpent’s Son, Lindsey wouldn’t have become interested in the occult, they would have never had to escape to Isla Cura, and the House of Wolves wouldn’t be hunted because it wouldn’t exist. Of course he couldn’t delude himself into thinking most of them would have had good lives otherwise - many coming from misunderstanding or even abusive families from which they had to hide their sexualities and religious views. He just wished something could be done to make their lives better. Some way of fixing everything so that they could be free...but then again, that kind of thinking was what got him in that situation in the first place. He tried not to think too heavily on the implications of that realization as he walked out of the store, waving his friends good-bye.

 

For the next hour, Ray ran from alley to alley, trying to find as many cult members as he could. He only managed to find three - a pair of girls hiding behind one run down building and a guy at another. Other than that, he didn’t make much progress. He tried not to think to negatively, but the three plus the handful that managed to make it to the store...that left the majority of his friends either dead or soon to be…  
Regardless, Ray instructed the ones he did find on where to go, trying to be as calm as possible. “Good luck,” he had said. ‘And sorry,’ he wanted to add, ‘for all of this. It’s all my fault.’ But self-loathing was most likely the last thing his friends wanted to hear in a time of crisis, so he kept his regrets to himself. He jogged as lightly as he could between two old buildings, staying close to the walls and disappearing into the growing shadows.  
“Crap,” he muttered to himself, remembering that he had to get back to the convenience store soon. He rounded the corner of the building, coming full stop and almost falling over when he reached the other side. He had seemed to run into a solid wall, but there was nothing in front of him. He looked down to the ground at his feet and his eyes widened in terror. Then he looked up and finally saw the figure standing a few feet away from him.  
Ray had walked right into a chalk circle covered in demonology symbols - effectively a trap designed to keep ungodly things locked inside. And the person who had set the trap - Bob - stood only a couple steps away, one arm in bandages, the other holding a small black book.  
“Crap,” Ray whispered again, frozen in fear.  
“Hello, Ray,” Bob growled, a grin slowly spreading across his face.  
Ray gulped, lifting his chin and standing tall, trying to appear unafraid. “Bob.”  
“So,” Bob said, “It seems i’ve caught you in a compromising situation.”  
“So it seems.”  
Bob cocked his head to the side, trying to read Ray’s stony face. “Why don’t I cut you a deal, then Raymond?”  
“I don’t make deals with traitors,” Ray responded coldly  
“Yeah, well,” Bob spat, “You don’t really seem to have a fucking choice, do you?” He lifted the book, indicating the punishment he had in store, “Have you ever seen an exorcism, Ray?”  
Ray’s face went blank, and he shifted his weight to keep his legs from buckling. No, he had never seen an exorcism, but he had certainly read about them. Countless texts about witch hunts and getting rid of changelings had given him a clear indication of how horrible it could be.  
“Uh huh,” Ray replied nonchalantly, hoping his entire body wasn’t shaking along with his heartbeat. “I’ve seen a lot of things, Bob. I’ve seen an ancient demon destroy an entire town. You don’t scare me.”  
“It’s interesting you bring that up,” Bob smirked. “Last time, it was you defeating the demon. This time, you’re the demon. Isn’t that ironic?”  
“Bob,” Ray sighed, “I don’t have time for games. What do you want from me?”  
“Simple,” Bob countered, the smile melting off his face, “I want your head on a fucking platter. But I want Gerard’s even more - and I’m guessing you know where he is?”  
Ray shook his head, “Why are you even mad at Gerard? I’m the one who kicked you out of the Band.”  
“He killed my fucking family, Ray!” Bob thundered, his face growing red. “I’ve had to deal with that insipid, whiny little brat complaining about his shitty life, knowing that everyone I cared about on Dolorosa is dead, thanks to him!”  
Ray’s brows furrowed and he took a breath, trying to be calm. “I never knew that-”  
“You never fucking asked.”  
“You never said anything!” Ray exclaimed, unable to contain himself any longer, “You never talk to anyone about anything, how were we supposed to know?”  
“We used to talk!” Bob yelled, “We used to be so close until fucking Gerard came along and messed everything up!”  
“Besides, I thought you hated your family-”  
“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!”  
“Bob,” Ray reasoned, pleading, “It would have happened to anyone of us-”  
“No!” Bob growled, poking his thumb at his chest, “I wouldn’t have caved under Jormungand! I would have been strong enough!”  
“Bob-”  
“Ray, Gerard was weak, and he’s the reason you’re all in this shit hole! So if you’re as smart as you like to act, you’ll tell me where the fuck he is!”  
A few moments of tense silence passed between them and they both breathed heavily.  
“No,” Ray finally said. “I don’t even know where he is. I can’t help you.”  
“Liar!” Bob screamed, stomping his foot, “Tell me where he is, or I swear to God, I will rip your unholy soul from your goddamn body!”  
Ray stared Bob straight in the eyes and made a small nod. “Do it then.”  
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”  
“I’m not,” Ray assured. “If killing me means the others have a bigger chance of escaping, go ahead.”  
“I don’t have to kill you then,” Bob said, clenching his jaw, “I could just leave you to starve and rot in this tiny circle forever!”  
“Fine,” Ray shrugged, “Do that then!”  
“Goddamnit!” Bob yelled, “Fine then! Have it your way!” He opened to the marked page in his book and began to read the ancient script:  
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”  
At first, Ray felt no effect, but by the end of the first phrase, his chest began to burn, as if something acidic was slowly making its way up his esophagus. He coughed, but that only made it worse. He put a hand to his chest and his eyes began to water.  
“Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis.”  
The coughing grew worse and Ray doubled over, heaving uncontrollably as his soul clawed its way out of his body. He was eventually brought to his knees, his legs weakened by the force of the incantation. He put a hand to the ground to steady himself. The tears in his eyes eventually began to spill over, not from the pain, but from the heavy realization that this was it: no outsmarting his enemy, no last minute luck - his life was about to come to an end, and he had no way of knowing whether his friends were truly safe. His sacrifice could be for nothing. Some distant part of him felt a selfish relief - and end to his existence meant an end to pain and hiding who he was from the world - but that part of him was small in comparison to the fear of the dark nothingness of death.  
“Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine...quem inferi tremunt...Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine.”  
Ray’s quiet crying turned into full blown sobs. His initial attempt to have a dignified end crumbled as the pains grew worse. His mouth began to open and his jaw locked in place involuntarily. The walls of his throat seemed to burst open, a burning acidic gas escaping from his lips in a thick, black cloud.  
“You could have stopped this, Ray,” Bob said, pausing momentarily, “Know that - your death is your own fault. And if that’s too much for you, you can blame Gerard.” He turned back to the book, blinking away the tears that began to form in his eyes as he took the life from his longtime friend. “Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.” The last of the dark mass left Ray’s body, escaping into the air and dissipating slowly.  
“Goodbye, Ray.” Bob said quietly.

 

Ray felt odd and queasy. He couldn’t feel anything. He had a view of an alley below him, as if he were floating a couple feet above the ground. And then he realized - he was. Below him were two figures - two young men in all black, one of them kneeling in a chalk circle, the other standing before him holding a small book. The latter was Bob - that was obvious. But the other....he had a large mass of curling brown hair and a look of absolute terror and pain on his face. His skin had dried and cracked, resembling the bark of a tree or a stone statue. His eyes were completely white and lifeless, his lips chapped and faded. A strange horror set into Ray’s...everything - his entire formless being experienced a terrible shudder as he realized - it was him. The pitiful, withered corpse so many feet below was him, which meant...he supposed he was just his soul now, watching from above.  
He felt a small shudder of relief wash over him as he tried to think of the implications. He attempted to move his cloudy form, hoping he would be able to travel to where his friends were and guide them. It dawned on him that it would be a miserably lonely existence, being like a ghost but without even a semblance of a human form. Regardless, he made an attempt to move. The second he did, the queasy feeling came back - he was beginning to expand and thin out. A wind began to blow and his corpse below cracked and crumbled, while his cloudy soul-form slowly dissipated into nothingness.  
Ray’s final sights were his physical form crumbling into dust and drifting away on the wind, as if he had never been there. Bob walked away, thinking that no one was around to see the tear roll down his cheek. As Ray’s body blew away, his vision faded along with his new form until everything was black. And after that, there was nothing, and nothing after that.  
And though the nothingness continued, Ray did not.


	36. Hang 'Em High: IV: After All Is Said And Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. Things have been super busy lately and I've been struggling to keep up with writing and everything else.

Hang ‘Em High IV: After All Is Said And Done

 

Back at the store, people were beginning to get nervous. They sky was darkening and they all sat in miserable silence, only stirred up when they heard a sound at the door. They’d all jump and either cower or put their fits up, ready for a fight - but then it would turn out to be one of their friends, tearful and crying, scratched up and winded. A couple of them had claimed to see Ray before getting there, but Ray never made an appearance himself. As the sun began to sink lower, Lindsey began pacing again, resuming angry conversations with herself.  
Another hour passed and they sky was nearly dark. The stream of escapees coming through the door trickled soon down to nothing; everyone who had a chance of surviving was already in the store - and Ray was not among them.   
The heavy realization dawned on all of them slowly but increased in weight with each second that passed. When it was finally and indisputably dark, they looked around at each other, taking inventory of who they had left. They counted those who had made it, choking down sobs and blinking back tears when they found that certain people were not among the survivors.  
Jen was not there - neither was Patrick. And Ray…  
“He’s still alive,” came Lindsey’s tight voice, emerging from what had seemed like an eternity of silence. “He’s probably just helping more people find their way-” She stopped, taking a breath to keep back the sobs building up in her chest.  
“Linds,” Frank began.  
“What?” Lindsey demanded, tears streaming down her face. She had cried so much recently that her cheeks had dark streams of eye makeup over faded ones from only hours before. “What do we do, just...just leave him behind? After everything he’s done for us?”  
Frank opened his mouth to speak, but bit his lip before any words came out. His eyes began to water and his eyebrows tightened. He shook his head and looked at the ceiling and then down at the floor. There was nothing left to say to make things better. Everything had gone to shit. It couldn’t get any worse than this - he hoped. Frank shrugged in defeat and slouched back against a wall. Gerard stood to hug his boyfriend, who began to cry uncontrollably.  
Gerard looked down at Frank, feeling uncharacteristically strong now that he was the one comforting someone else. His heart felt heavy with the sorrow of their world crashing down around them and the loss of someone who had come to be a mentor and best friend. Gerard remembered the first time Frank had invited him to join the Band of the Serpent’s Son - he had referred to Ray as his brother. It wasn’t until the present moment that Gerard realized Ray had been an older brother to him as well.  
He looked up at the room around him, his eyes burning and wet, but not spilling over. With his good eye, he looked at the people in the room around him - and everyone looked back. Gerard realized with a sense uneasiness that they were waiting on his word to act. With Lindsey unstable and Ray...not there, Gerard seemed naturally to be next up on the chain. He took a breath and spoke with a dry, cracked voice.  
“We need to leave,” he said. “As soon as possible.” He looked around the room, waiting for someone to object - but everyone stayed silent, even Lindsey. They cast their eyes down to the ground in both shame and relief. They were drained; they were tired of playing the heroic martyrs. They had all been in this to change the world - but none of them wanted to die.  
So with heavy hearts and silent tears, they gathered what little usable supplies they could scavenge from the abandoned store and prepared themselves - physically and emotionally - for what was to come.


	37. Hang ‘Em High V: Don’t Look Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen.

Hang ‘Em High V: Don’t Look Back

It was utter chaos. The frantic run from the convenience store had begun as a nervous yet collective movement towards the edge of town, but as more of their hunters discovered them, Gerard and his friends began to split up and run wherever seemed safest - not always in the direction they needed to go.  
Gerard was so full of adrenaline that he seemed unable to hear his surroundings at first. He could hear the beating of his heart and maybe some faint yelling in the distance. As the chase wound on, his hearing and other senses began to level out and the true level of chaos sank in. He friends were dropping like flies. Looking side to side and behind him, he could see only Frank, Lindsey, and a few others. With each turn down a new back road or alleyway, less people were there when Gerard checked. Attackers stood waiting in each dark space, lunging forward with a crucifix, a knife, a bucket of holy water. The screams were horrific when a person was caught, but by the time everyone else noticed, it was too late. As the group split up, the screams of terror and pain could be heard all over the neighbourhood. It was like hell, which was where Gerard was sure he was going.  
Gerard tried to run as far as he could, but his vision began to blur and his head pounded with his heart beat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had some water, and the effects of dehydration were beginning to catch up with him. Frank grabbed him by the hand and led him to a shadowed area behind the closest run down building. Lindsey stopped with them, insisting that the others keep going.  
“Gerard,” she urged, “Come one, we can’t stop.”  
“Lindsey, fucking look at him!” Frank hissed, his eyes still red and wet from mourning Ray.  
Gerard wheezed heavily with a hand on his chest and shook his head. His greasy hair, saturated with sweat, clung to his burnt face. “I’m fine,” he huffed, “I just need a second.”  
“Gerard, please,” Lindsey begged, inching away from the wall, “I know it’s difficult, but we need to go just a little further. I don’t want to lose you two today, I refuse to.” She took his hand, beginning to lead him and Frank back on their route, but a mass of water suddenly came splashing down from above. She looked up too late at the man who had been watching them from the roof of the adjacent building, bucket ready, and was immediately drenched from head to toe in holy water.  
Lindsey let go of Gerard’s hand and staggered backwards, gasping and beginning to convulse.  
“LINDSEY!” Frank screamed, running to her side. He reached out to support her as she fell to her knees but she waved him away.  
“No!” she insisted, as sores began to form on her sizzling skin, “Go...now…” Her skin was beginning to burn, but she wasn’t even able to scream - she could only curl up on the ground, hoping that the water would take its effect quickly and that her life of suffering would finally end.  
Gerard stared down at Lindsey in horror, frozen in place. He turned to look up at the place where the attacker from the roof had been, but the man was gone. He began to shake in rage, clenching his fists.  
“I...we have to-” Gerard couldn’t form words - the shock of what was happening was too much for him.  
“Go!” Lindsey managed to croak again, pointing feebly in the direction they had been heading.  
“But Lindsey!” Frank insisted, tears streaming down his face, “We can’t - I can’t leave you!”  
“Just listen to me for once, you...idiot.” She paused, steadying herself with a quivering arm. “I don’t want you to see me die like this, and I don’t want you to die either. Get the fuck out of here...please.”  
Frank could only nod, constantly wiping the tears from his face. Lindsey closed her eyes as her muscles stiffened into place. She sat on her feet with her hands out to steady herself, but there was no point now. Her hearing began to fade, and she thought she could hear the faint scuffling of Frank and Gerard’s feet as they left. Her stomach flipped and the agony of all the things she was leaving unsaid almost matched her physical pain.  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I love you.” She wasn’t sure who exactly she had intended her words for. But she was almost certain that both of them had already left by the time she managed to speak her last words.

“Fuck!” Frank spat, angrily wiping tears from his face as he ran side by side with Gerard, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Gerard, she’s gone!”  
Gerard stared straight ahead. His eyes were set with a steely resolve but he felt a burning rage bubbling up beneath his cold exterior. He reached out to grab Frank’s hand, pulling him forward. He refused to lose another person he cared about. They turned a corner and came to an abrupt stop as they were confronted by one of Bob’s henchmen - a forty-something man who they had seen each week at St. Helena’s. He held a large crucifix in his hand and ran towards them, swinging the metallic object at Frank’s head. Frank flinched away too late, but Gerard’s reflexes underwent an extreme heightened state from the adrenaline. He stepped in front of his boyfriend and held up a hand to block the attack. A wall of air thrust up in front of them, sending the crucifix flying out the man’s hand. He gasped and staggered back in fear.  
“Witch!” He cried, “Demons! Stay back!” He held out his hands in defence, or perhaps even mercy, but that was the last thing on Gerard’s mind.  
Gerard took a step forward and without thinking, thrust his palm out towards the man. His next actions came suddenly and almost by instinct. The man froze in place and began gasping, as if he was having trouble breathing. Frank shrank back in terror as he saw what Gerard was doing. His boyfriend’s eyes lit up as he slowly twisted his hand, drawing the air out of the man’s lungs. A white mist slowly inched its way out of the dying man’s mouth and drifted towards Gerard’s fingertips. Gerard closed his fist and the man brought his hands frantically up to his throat, trying fearfully not to die. Tears formed in the attacker’s reddening eyes as Gerard thrust his closed fist downwards, sending the man collapsing to the ground in a final, rasping wheeze.  
“Jesus,” Frank whispered, taking a step forward. “That was-” He didn’t know what to say. It was definitely a good thing that Gerard was no longer mentally disconnected from his surroundings and had found it in him to fight back - but the way he had killed the man - slow and deliberate like it was something to enjoy instead of a quick action that needed to be done. Frank even thought he could see a slight smirk on Gerard’s face as he took the man’s life. It was all too reminiscent of the Jormungand incident, but he had no time to question Gerard’s morals. Only a couple blocks away, he could see where the houses and shops turned into the rocky beach and docks.  
“Okay,’ Frank said, “We’re almost there. We just gotta make it across the beach.”  
Gerard nodded. “Let’s go then.”  
Frank didn’t move. He stared intently at Gerard, trying to think of what he wanted to say.  
“What?” Gerard asked, “Frank, we have to go!”  
“You’ll leave without me, right?”  
“What!?”  
“If something happens to me, promise you’ll keep going.”  
“Frank!” Gerard exclaimed, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you!”  
“Well that’s what I thought about Lindsey!” Frank cried, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks again. “Just please - I don’t want all of this to have been for nothing. I need you to survive.”  
“Fine, “Gerard finally agreed, “But only if you promise to do the same.”  
Frank faltered. “I...Gerard-”  
“Frank!”  
“Okay, yes. I promise.” Frank leaned in to kiss Gerard, grabbed his hand and pulled him along in the direction of the docks, both of them running as fast as their exhausted legs could manage.  
“We’re almost there,” Frank huffed, “Almost-” His lungs burned too much to speak, so all he could do was weep in relief as they neared a small boat with Brendon already inside with a few other group members, getting ready to depart. Frank and Gerard waved frantically at Brendon, who looked up and immediately froze.  
“Wait for us!” Frank cried out. Brendon held out his arm and pointed in the direction Frank and Gerard had come from. Frank made the mistake of turning to look briefly over his shoulder - Bob, followed by at least a dozen other men, was running furiously behind them with blazing torches and instruments of torture. The mob screamed and hurled insults at them, nearing at a terrifying speed.  
“Fuck!” Gerard spat, as Frank took his arm and pulled him along. As the shore got rockier, they had to leap across gaps to keep from falling.  
They were only a couple feet away when Gerard lost his footing in the dark and his foot got caught between two rocks. His ankle twisted and snapped painfully as he tried to run with his foot still in the crevice.  
“AAUH!” He fell to the ground in pain, putting a shaky hand to his mangled foot.  
“GERARD!” Frank cried out, stopping abruptly and falling to his knees to help his boyfriend. He put his arms around Gerard, trying to pull him up, but it only dragged his ankle against the jagged ridges, tearing his skin again and drawing more blood.  
“Frank!” Gerard whispered desperately, blinking through his hot tears. He looked into the distance, seeing the encroaching mob coming closer and closer. “You...you have to - “ Gerard paused, wincing through the pain. “You have to go-”  
“No!” Frank insisted, “I am not leaving without you!”  
“You promised!” Gerard cried, “You promised me!”  
“But-” Frank looked back up at Bob’s horde, which was almost upon them. “They’re...they’re gonna kill you Gerard, don’t you - I can’t-” He ran his trembling hand through Gerard’s hair. “I can’t lose you Gerard, I’ve lost everything.”  
Gerard took a shaky breath, trying to keep down his sobs. He tried to be strong, but there was no strength left - no more bravery he could pretend to have. He was scared, and rightfully so.  
Frank was about to put his hands around Gerard’s leg for another attempt at freeing it, when he was suddenly lifted from the ground. He turned in surprise to see that Brendon and three other guys had run from the boat to help. They each grabbed Frank and dragged him along, leaving Gerard behind.  
“WAIT!” Frank cried, trying with all his might to break free, “WAIT, GERARD’S STILL THERE!”  
“We have no time!” Brendon responded. His tried to keep a still face, but his eyes were full of tears.  
“NO!” Frank screamed, struggling. He tried to punch and kick at them or use his powers, but he didn’t have enough strength left in him to do more than make a fuss. “YOU BASTARDS!” Frank spat, saliva flying from his lips, “YOU FUCKING - LET ME GO!”  
If he craned his neck, Frank could occasionally turn to see just over his shoulder. Each time, the mob got closer and closer until they were finally over Gerard. He saw someone wrench him from the ground and into the air, his foot snapped completely and hung limp from the ankle. Gerard’s scream of agony pierced Frank like a knife, and he began to scream and sob harder than he ever had before. Worse than when Ray died, and worse than when Lindsey had. This was all he had left - the last good thing in this disgusting, fucked up world - and it was about to be taken from him.  
As the boys dragged Frank into the boat, he could see Gerard making an attempt to fight back. An occasional gust of wind would flare up and knock someone to the ground, but there were just too many of them to hurt them all.  
“BRENDON!” Frank howled desperately as they neared the boat, “Taking Gerard away from me isn’t going to bring Ryan back! It wasn’t Gerard’s fault that-”  
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT RYAN!” Brendon roared, shoving Frank into the boat, “I’m trying to help you, you FUCKING IDIOT!”  
“FUCK YOU!” Frank screamed as he was pushed onto the floor of the boat and held down, “FUCK ALL OF YOU!” There was less than a dozen people on the boat. Less than a dozen of the Band of the Serpent’s Son and the House of Wolves had managed to escape. They had all seen their share of loved ones dying - they all looked away out of shame or angry apathy. Frank got up just enough to see Gerard reach out his hand one last time - a gust of wind came rushing forward, pushing the boat away from the shore. The hand disappeared as Gerard’s arms were tied behind his back. The wind threw Frank off his balance, and his shoulder hit the floor of the boat as the exorcism started. He didn’t have enough energy to get up, so he lay there in the damp and dirty boat, listening to the sound of his boyfriend’s soul being ripped from his body. The screams lasted for far longer than he could bear.  
After about twenty minutes had passed, Frank finally mustered the strength to sit upright. He sat with his back facing Isla Cura, not wanting to see what remained of Gerard’s body. He didn’t know exactly what they had done to him, but judging by the amount of time it took, he guessed they had used holy water and crucifixes first before moving on to the actual exorcism. The crowd had cheered and applauded - as if they were watching entertainment and not a human being suffer in the most excruciating way possible.  
Even as the screaming died down, Frank kept his back turned on the island that had taken everyone he loved away from him - the best friend he had turned his back on, the sister he had shunned for years, and the boyfriend he had led to death. The island was an embodiment and reminder of his faults - of his reckless selfishness. A horrible smell wafted towards the boat, and as a pyromaniac, he could instantly tell what it as - it was the stench of something burning. It dawned on him that the torches hadn’t been simply for the mob to be able to see in the darkness - but to destroy the bodies of the ‘demons’ to make sure they could never come back.  
Frank stared hollowly off into the distance, so devoid of feeling that he couldn’t even cry anymore. He just sat hunched over as the boat made its slow way to some other godforsaken island. He closed his eyes, not wanted to look at what might lay ahead for him - there was nothing really, nothing worth living for. But above that, above not wanting to look ahead - he didn’t want to look back.

END OF SONG IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. There's actually been a whole lot of foreshadowing for this (and for what comes after this) since song one, and there's literally a code in House of Wolves that reveals the outcome of this chapter so...don't say I didn't warn you, okay?
> 
> 2\. No, even after that, this isn't the last song. There's one (kind of 1.5) more to go but it's pretty short, so your suffering won't last that long.
> 
> 3\. I'm going on vacation soon, and there's no way (or at least very little chance) I'll be able to keep up with writing. So...see you in 2017, I guess?  
> PS - what do you guys think? I'm trying to improve my writing skills to a point where I can make people cry.


	38. Diluted I: Past Transgressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long this is taking (and for not responding to comments as much as I used to). Thanks for being patient and so encouraging, guys. This chapter was pretty short and vague, but I promise it'll all make more sense in the next few parts.

Diluted I: Past Transgressions

Frank walked the brisk, autumn streets of Isla Cura alone. Still in shock from the mass conflict of the previous year the locals would only refer to as “the transgression,” the streets were seldom busy this early in the morning. People were convinced that demons still lurked in the alleyways and side streets. As Frank passed between the shadows of buildings in the chilly dawn, he supposed they were right. From the setting of the sun to its rising, he was the only one who roamed the island without fear, and with what he had in store for the people of Isla Cura - he supposed it wasn’t inaccurate to fear him as a demon.

In the past year, much had changed. Frank had grown taller, and even more gaunt than before. The boyish waves of his black hair had been cut short months ago, and gone were all his piercings. He hadn’t done it in some symbolic erasure of the past - he simply didn’t have the time or passion to put into anything that required maintenance. It didn’t do much to change his appearance to a point where he would be unrecognizable - he looked different, to be sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if some observant person who had witnessed last year’s… ‘transgression,’ first hand recognized him. He didn’t really care if he got recognized at this point; if all went as expected, his plan would come to fruition in less than a day.  
Despite his change in appearance, the changes Frank had undergone went deeper than the physical. For the first few weeks after escaping the island, Frank and the rest of the survivors had tried sticking together, gathering supplies, looting at night - but over time, people began to leave. Some would get arrested (purposefully, some would claim), some would storm off after a heated argument. Others would just walk off in the middle of the night, or not be there when the rest woke up in the morning. Their numbers dwindled to a point where it was just Frank and Brendon living on the streets together. On the last night Frank saw Brendon, he had been rambling incoherently, fidgeting with his hands and pulling at his hair. Frank could tell it wouldn’t be long before he completely lost it like all the others. The next morning, Brendon was gone. Frank didn’t bother looking for him.  
The next few weeks, Frank ambled listlessly, begging for money when he could during the day, stealing what he could at night and finding a safe place to stay until morning. He had figured out that libraries were great for staying nearly the entire day as long as he cleaned up a bit and pretended to be interested in a couple books. It wasn’t until one book in particular caught his eye that he actually began to pay attention to them. A large Norse book, old and worn - something Ray would have killed to have in his collection. It was at that moment that the spark was lit for Frank’s last brilliant idea. It was insane and most likely suicidal, but he was tired of the overwhelming pain he had come to accept as his day to day life. He needed something different. If not better, then at least different.  
Then came the months of extensive research, pickpocketing, and preparation that consumed his life up to the present moment - begging and stealing enough to get by and plan his return to the island that had ruined his life. It had taken everything out of him. There was no group this time, no team to fall back on if something backfired, no moral support for the difficult decision he was about to make. It was just him, and the freedom both liberated and stifled him.

The sun was about to rise over Isla Cura, but the fall clouds created a dull, gray wash over the island. Frank sat on a felled stump in the forest near where Lindsey’s house used to be. It had once occurred to him that he might find something there that could help him - but the only remains of the house he could find were ashes and a crumbling foundation.  
Frank held in his hands a wooden bowl - it was no ancient chalice, but it would have to do. He had scratched the proper Norse runes on it with a pocket knife; he supposed that would be good enough. The bowl was full to the brim with deep red liquid. How Frank had obtained it, he wasn’t exactly proud of. He had needed the blood of someone young and naive - it had been perfect when the Band of the Serpent’s Son was still together - nothing said young and naive like a group of outcast teenagers hoping to change the world with their magic powers - but Frank didn’t have enough time for that. He didn’t have time to gather enough idiots who were willing to invest their lives into this. He didn’t have enough time to make the same mistakes Ray and Lindsey did, and he had certainly lost too much innocence to fill the bowl himself - that is if he could even afford to lose that much blood. No; the new spell called for a large amount of blood in a short amount of time. So Frank got it. It was the first time Frank had intentionally hurt an innocent person. He was scared that it would feel terrible - that he would hate himself for it. Instead he found himself surprised and almost scared at the apathy he had shown, as if he has just completing a menial task. She had been young, and completely undeserving of the sacrifice he had made on her behalf. But she was also a pastor’s daughter. He supposed that had made it easier.   
Frank stared into the bowl, scowling bitterly at the reflection that sneered back at him. He hated everything - every second of his miserable existence - and more than that, he hated himself. He just wanted everything to be over, for the world to finally fade to black and never give him anything to do, or hear, or see, or fucking feel ever again.  
But first, before he could even consider anything like that - he had a job to do.  
Frank lifted the bowl to his lips and prepared to tip the bowl into his mouth. In that one moment, he was certain he had never felt so empty before. He wasn’t just thinner physically, but...spiritually as well. As if someone had taken his fire and extinguished it. As if he had been...diluted somehow. But then, he supposed, that was essentially the purpose of the spell - but if it worked, his extinguished fire would most definitely make a return, one final time.


	39. Diluted II: My Love and My Hate for You are Infinite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank gets in touch with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge chunk of this (everything in quotations) was taken directly from the song this part is based off of (Diluted by Death Spells) It's one of my favourite pieces by them because it's not really a song, more like poetry over top a sound-scape. I had already planned all of Fire At Will when Nothing Above, Nothing Below, came out, but Diluted seemed so perfect - like it was written specifically for Fire At Will. I had to shoehorn it in somehow.

Diluted II: My Love and My Hate for You are Infinite

He had expected it to burn. Frank’s mind raced back to a year ago (had it really only been a year?) when Gerard drank the enchanted blood and was burned horribly, both inside and out.  
It’s not the only way he was burned, came a voice in Frank’s head. He promptly told it to shut the fuck up.  
But this wasn’t a white hot liquid. It wasn’t enchanted yet - and wouldn’t be. It was a gateway to the real spell. It was to show his dedication and true self - how far he would go to get what he wanted. This time, he wasn’t some stupid fool looking to save the world. He didn’t give a shit about the world anymore.  
So the blood was just blood. And Frank had to down it all. It was everything he feared it would be and more - thick, warm, metallic and reeking. He gagged halfway through and almost threw up, but kept going. It was like when the blood from a nosebleed finds its way down the wrong tube and slides down the esophagus instead - but a thousand times that, and somebody else’s.  
When it was finally done, Frank burped heavily and tossed the bowl to the ground, nearly falling off the stump as his vision went blurry. He felt queasy, but couldn’t tell if it was because of nausea or the beginning of the ritual. Either way, he needed to begin as soon as possible.  
It was a Diluting Spell. Essentially, its purpose was to thin him out - to get him to reveal his truest self. Plans like the one he had been plotting were usually gradually worked towards over a course of months, even years. His was to take place in a day. So there would be no room for second guessing, or ulterior motives. He had to dig deep down and be completely honest - no tough guy bullshitting and denial - or the spell wouldn’t work. Frank needed to be vulnerable so that the spell could have power over him. He took a deep breath and prepared to be completely honest with himself for the first in a very long time. 

His first thought went back to the beginning. Back to when the Band of the Serpent’s Son just started. They had spent so long together, full of adventure and hope and romantic ideas about being heroes. What a bunch of fucking idiots. They had given up everything and run away from their homes - and all for what? For a bunch of dead friends and traumatized survivors. And the worst part - Frank was managing without anyone else. He had first expected to go insane like the others who had survived. But instead he found himself able to think logically and plan for the future. His own coldness scared him. He decided to start with that. Frank spoke loudly into the grey woods, letting his words float out into the cold, foggy air.

“We have survived this life so far, but how far have we really come? What stops us from finally feeling complete? The time I have taken to myself has left me with the feeling that...I may just be fine all alone.”

The last part stung to say. He didn’t want to be so clear minded and able to take care of himself after everyone he had lost because...if he was fine all alone, did that mean he was meant to be alone? And then - if he was meant to be alone, he shouldn’t have dragged Gerard into the whole mess in the first place.  
Gerard…  
The thought of him was beautiful but painful at the same time. The memories of the last autumn came flooding back, accented by the image of the red-orange trees beside his sister’s house. Then he thought of his sister and all the shit he had put her through. And his best friend, and...everyone. There was no way in his mind that Frank could justify things as not being his fault. Every place he passed brought back horrific memories - the crumbling ashes where Lindsey’s little house once stood, the abandoned warehouse they had used as a home, the goddamned church full of charlatans and hypocrites, the beach where Gerard was…  
No, he thought. That was enough thinking. He had admitted enough. Time to say it aloud and move on to the next thing.

“The leaves once green, now a fiery red, crackle underfoot as we make our way past the rotten pillars of our past transgressions. I need this to be over. I know that now. Holding on to cold hands and sunken eyes hasn’t held the same charm as it once did.”

That was definitely true. The image of who he used to be - a rebellious, sleep deprived teen who took pride in his lack of possessions - the thought of how pretentious he had been when trying to point out the pretension in others. He hated it. He had long since given up on his hope for a better future. If he was to get anything done, he had to change. He had to be different - stronger than his friends who had been too physically weak to survive or too mentally weak to go on afterwards. It was a cruel thing to admit, but if he had to admit it, then it was a truth worth including in the ritual.

“I am fast approaching my rebirth. No more childish dreams, no more adolescent desires, no more breath of fresh air. Leave me to my work. I am not like all the others.”

And then the next line - the hardest line it had been to conceive and also the most confusing, because he didn’t know who it was directed to. Was it Gerard, who had given him the most joy in his entire life and then followed it by the sharpest pain? Or was the line directed at the entity who he hated but now pleaded with because it now gave him a chance at retribution? Either way, Frank spat his words with a sneer.

“My love and my hate for you are infinite.”

Now that he had his past out of the way, it was time for Frank to reveal his plans for the future. This time, he wouldn’t pretend that he was doing the right thing. This was about power, and he wanted all he could get. He needed enough power to stop feeling the weakness that came with regret and self-loathing. Tired of feeling the pain and weight of all he had lost, Frank was ready for someone else to feel the same - someone in particular, who he was just itching to pay a visit. And all the while, he knew what the ultimate cost of this spell would be. He knew the kind power he was dealing with and what it could do to him. He didn’t care.

“May I walk through this hideous world without fear of regret. I shall consume the hate that consumes me. Let me wash away my pain and mistrust in the tears of those foolish enough to get in my way. I shall cut off the hand at the wrist and feed upon my master.”

In this final ritual, Frank knew that he was giving every part of him into this act of vengeance - but it was all worth it. His regrets and insecurities and shame would finally wash away. His life had been engulfed in darkness, but he refused to go out in a quiet, shadowy, whimper. He would make right what had been done to him - to everyone - in the most extreme way he could manage.

“None can be better. None will be stronger. No one will hold judgement over my head. I am the beacon, the forest fire, the tire yard set ablaze. I am the smoldering ember in the darkness that surrounds us all.”

Frank knew he was nearing the end of the ritual. He had said all that came to mind, all that he had shoved to the dark recesses of his mind to lessen the severity of the pain. He realized in a vague, disconnected way, as if he were only partly in touch with his physical body, that tears were streaming down his face. He let them be. There was no point in hiding his suffering any longer, in fact, quite the opposite was needed. Frank had to come to terms with every aspect of his situation. This endeavour had taken up every waking moment of the past year. It was his escape from the pain, though he knew it would chain him to something much bigger.

“This is my passion. This is my calling. This is my prison. This is me.”

And then - those final words again. Spoken to whoever they were meant for, though Frank himself didn’t know for certain. He supposed he didn’t need to understand. As long as this worked, he’d never have to worry about his feelings or what they meant ever again. His voice shook as he uttured the phrase:

“My love and my hate for you are infinite. My love and my hate for you are infinite.”

Frank winced and clenched his fists. At first he thought he was ill, but he soon understood that the spell was underway. His tears began to burn, his stomach tensed up, and his head felt as if two large hands were squeezing at both sides. Frank clutched his temples, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him. He hunched forward on the tree stump, grunting and gasping from the increasing pressure on his skull. The world around him seemed to wash away. It was as if he could hear nothing and everything at once - like the loudest silence he had ever heard.  
Then, just as he felt that he couldn’t handle the pressure any longer, his head suddenly cleared. The oppressive silence dulled down to a gentle quiet and he suddenly sat upright, breathing deeply.  
Frank knew he was no longer alone. Physically, he was in solitude. The situation was different in his mind, however. Someone else was there. The voice seemed to boom in his head, though he knew no sound was being made.  
*I AMM...BACK.* The voice hissed.  
“Hello,” Frank said quietly. “Do you remember me?”  
*YESSS* The voice was bitter and full of disdain, but if this conversation was even occurring, it was clear that Frank wasn’t completely unforgiven.  
“I'm not sorry for what I did to you.” Frank explained brazenly as he got up from the stump, “But I can give you another chance to have what you want.”  
*YESSSS. WE BOTHH WANT THE SAME THHING.*  
“Yes,” Frank responded, his brain going back what seemed like a lifetime ago to remember the words Gerard had spoken the first time. “We want nothing.”  
The voice chuckled, or at least that’s what Frank guessed the noise was. It had sounded like metal scraping against a car. *WE WILL CREATTE NOTTHHING. THERE WILL BE NOTHHING FOREVER. NOTHING EXCCCEPT...USS.*

END OF SONG V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for being so patient. I SWEAR there's only like one part left...maybe two, but probably one. And then this long-ass disaster will be over. What do you guys think of what Frank's doing?
> 
> Also, I just learned that there's also a song called Diluted by Slipknot, and it happens to fit Fire at Will pretty accurately as well. Huh.


	40. Murder Was The Case That They Gave Me: Ashes to Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

Murder Was The Case That They Gave Me: Ashes to Ashes

The priest looked worriedly out the window of his living room. The storm brewing outside darkened the already cold sky and made the foundations of his small house creak. Better go make sure the windows are all closed, he thought. He got up from his leather recliner and began with the window closest to him - the one at the front of the house facing the street. It took some time for the squeaking crank that pulled the window in to have an effect; the house was quite old, after all. Though he couldn’t complain. St. Helena’s had gifted it to him after his brave actions in defending Isla Cura during the Transgression. The house had originally belonged to some other church official who had died during the conflict. The young priest didn’t much mind - the guy was too dead to demand his house back.  
As he looked out the window, the young priest caught a glimpse of his faint reflection in the glass. Pale skin, steely eyes, close cut, fair hair. Everything about him looked menacing - he had no idea how he had tricked the pious fools of Isla Cura that he had changed for the “better.” The only thing that had changed about him was that he would no longer let people cheat him out of what he deserved. Those assholes he had once called his friends could burn in hell for all he cared - and if all the religious shtick he had been spouting to avoid suspicion was true, they probably were.  
The thought made him smile.  
He grinned for a moment, but his smile melted away as the window finally squeaked shut. With its last nudge against the pane, it brought in a small gust of wind...a body of air much too warm for this time of year. The priest stared out the window to see that the sky was darkening...into a deep red, accented by bright orange behind the clouds. The colour of fire. On the street, people who had gone out for early morning walks or on their commute to work stared fearfully into the sky. Everyone was still on edge from the Transgression, especially after people had pieced together that the same group had been responsible for the destruction of Dolorosa. This was not a good omen.  
The priest leaned closer to the window, trying to get a better view. The blood red clouds seemed to swirl around a black point in the sky. As they swirled quicker, the point got closer, and the priest could see what was really in the centre of the clouds - it was a figure...a young man in all black. The priest’s eyes widened and his heart seemed to stop - when it restarted, it beat three times quicker. He quickly drew the curtains shut and pressed his back up against the window.  
No, he thought, this should be over.  
Screams from the street echoed into his living room.  
No.  
He bolted down the stairs to the basement, nearly tripping over himself. The year of confidence he had built up dissipated in the face of his worst fear. He huddled down onto the cold, unfinished floor beside storage boxes and old furniture - the contents of the dark basement. The small windows that peeked out to ground level began to glow brighter and brighter red as whatever hell was going on outside intensified.  
Shit, he thought, ducking his head down beside a box so that someone trying to look in from the windows wouldn’t be able to see him. He felt his lips begin to move involuntarily - he realized he was praying - something he hadn’t done privately in years.  
A deafening sound came from upstairs - the sound of wood and metal being wrenched from each other and hurled away. It was a sound he had head before, what seemed like lifetimes ago. The second floor of his house had just been ripped away. He knew because he had seen it happen.  
No, he thought tearfully, shaking his head. No, not this.  
The air thickened and a layer of heat descended onto him. The priest wiped sweat from his forehead, wide eyed and shaking. He yelped when he heard a slow creaking - the sound that foretold the destruction of his only protection left. When the structure of his house finally gave way, his ceiling seemed to disappear, replaced by a blinding, burning light. He covered his eyes which streamed with hot tears.  
Hovering below the floating wreckage of his house was the young man. He wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans. Ratty sneakers, short black hair and covered in tattoos. His eyes glowed a deep orange-gold. He looked beautiful and terrible at the same time. Like an angel of death.  
“Frank!” The priest called out when he regained his ability to speak, “Please, I-”  
Frank interrupted with a slow, calloused laugh. His voice was different. It scraped itself out of his throat and sounded like a whisper and a yell at the same time.  
“Oh Bob. Look at how pathetic you are.” He tilted his head to the side and grinned in mock pity.  
“I had no choice in what I did!” Bob fired back, trying to regain his cold anger, “You all abandoned me!”  
“After you attacked my sister’s best friend,” Frank spat, beginning to descend slowly into the crevice. “Both of them are dead by the way, thanks to you. I watched my sister die, Bob.”  
“I...I never meant for it to-”  
“SHUT UP!” Frank roared, shaking the earth as he landed hard on his feet. “YOU….YOU…” he clenched his fists and lurched at Bob, pulling him up to his feet by the throat. Bob sputtered and gasped, trying in vain to wriggle free.  
“You cowardly little bitch,” Frank whispered, his suddenly quiet voice charged with hatred. He looked up at the ruins of Bob’s house, still floating in the air above them. “This was a nice little place you had for yourself before I destroyed it, huh? And you have this whole town of idiots fooled, thinking you’re some kind of hero.”  
“Is that any different than what Gerard thought he was?”  
Frank’s burning eyes widened and he clenched his jaw, shaking violently. “DON’T!” Frank screamed, throwing Bob back down to the ground. A shower of rubble fell down around them as he yelled. “DON’T YOU DARE!”  
“All this time and you’re still so easily rattled.” Bob wheezed.  
Frank knelt down next to Bob and pulled him back up to glare into his eyes. “Maybe. Maybe I’m so rattled that I’m going to destroy everything you have. All your belongings, all your friends....if you’ve managed to make any that you haven’t screwed over yet. Whatever girl you may have tricked into fucking you...anyone. They’re all going to die.” Frank smiled… “But I’m starting with you.”  
“...How did you do it?” Bob asked.  
“Oh?” Frank cocked his head to the side, feigning modesty, “This? All I had to do was kill and drink the blood of a virgin. That did the trick.”  
Bob looked down at the ground, laughing in defeat. “So all this time, that’s all I had to do? Kill some prude bitch and I could have gotten the powers I spent years in that damned cult working for.”  
“Oh, and you’d love these powers Bobby,” Frank teased, “This is the strongest I’ve felt in my entire life. Fire coursing through my veins. Knowing that I can end countless human lives with a snap of my fingers.” Frank raised a hand and snapped, bringing more rubble crashing down around them.  
“So why don’t you just do it then?” Bob asked, “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”  
“Because,” Frank said, leaning in close and sending chills down Bob’s spine, “I want you to suffer. Slowly.”  
He threw Bob to the ground and raised his hand, summoning more rubble. “Like this.” A mass of bricks and concrete slammed down onto and around Bob, crushing his legs and peppering the air with dust. He cried out in pain and coughed as his lungs absorbed the dry particles.  
Frank began to pull down more and more of the broken house above until there was a constant shower of wood, metal, and concrete raining down around them in a deep red hellscape. Frank began to set fire to their surroundings, watching with glee as the fire crept closer and closer to where Bob lay trapped.  
“Why!” Bob cried out, “I know you hate me, but why like this?”  
“For old times sakes, Bob!” Frank cried out, deliriously. “I want my face to be the last thing you remember. The last thing you ever see! This house will slowly crush you, and as your lungs fill with dust and your body is crushed, I want you to know that you did this to yourself. You can’t play with fire and not expect to get fucking burned.” Frank began to levitate, the hot wind whipping around him and keeping him aloft like a fiery god. “I want you to know that I’m your ending, I’m your fucking nightmare, Bob. What was that old saying you seemed to like so much? ...Ashes to ashes?”  
Bob shook his head, unable to speak.  
“Yeah,” Frank nodded, “I’m sure that’s the one. Ashes to fucking ashes. You’re dirt beneath my feet, traitor.”  
The rain of wreckage continued in a violent and terrifying flurry. Frank was aware of the fact that he could be buried in the rubble as well if he didn’t get out soon. He didn’t care.  
Either he would die, or the world around him would die after he destroyed it. Now that he had completed his task, he wanted nothing. He wanted there to be nothing. He wanted to see and hear and feel and be nothing. And in a matter of time, he got his wish.  
Frank rained down destruction on the island of Isla Cura. He burned brighter than any had before. And when his body had given all it could give, there was nothing left. What began as a small spark of anger lit by years of abuse had grown to a fiery inferno despair, snuffed out by its own creation.  
He had come from nothing to ultimately become nothing.  
Dust to dust.  
Ashes to ashes.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so this is the longest thing I've ever written. It took me roughly nine months...it's like I've given birth to a demonic child. I kind of want to go back and read (there's a TON of foreshadowing) it but I know I'm going to cringe at my writing from only a year ago.  
> Thanks for sticking around so long if you did. Also...sorry for not having an exactly happy ending, but nothing I write ever does. I hope you enjoyed it, and that this hasn't made all the songs I based this fic off of too sad to listen to.  
> In conclusion, I'd just like to point out that Frank never told Gerard he loved him. That's all.  
> Have a nice day <3.


End file.
